


Our Bodies Safe to Shore

by dharmaavocado



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Magical Realism, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 15:33:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 51,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15933347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dharmaavocado/pseuds/dharmaavocado
Summary: “I beg your pardon,” he repeated for what had to be the fifth time, “but married?”The coat that had started the whole thing was innocuously hanging on the rack next to the door, and Obi-Wan resisted the urge to glare accusingly at it.“Sorry,” said Rex with an awkward shrug, “but I don’t make the rules.”In which there is a deal, a coat, and what comes after.(or the selkie au)





	Our Bodies Safe to Shore

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Of Monsters and Men song _Little Talks._
> 
> Thank you to TheAceApples for the original premise and letting me run with it. Big thank you to captainsbones, who was kind enough to answer my questions on New Zealand and gently steered me away from a blunder or two. Any and all mistakes are entirely my own. And of course thank you to Norcumi for her invaluable enthusiasm and cheerleading.
> 
> Many thanks to everyone who read the bits and pieces I posted while working on this and cheered me on. This wouldn't exist without you all.

Obi-Wan’s first thought, after half a dozen reiterations of _I beg your pardon_ , was that Anakin was going to laugh himself sick. 

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin had said seriously when Obi-Wan presented the finalized plan, “is this your attempt to assume the life of one of the extremely boring protagonists in those old books you read for fun?” 

“They’re not boring,” Obi-Wan protested, although he didn’t know why he bothered. He had long since given up on getting Anakin to read anything that didn’t have a dragon on the cover. “They’re classics, and I don’t see how this in any way resembles the plot of whatever novel you’re deliberately misremembering right now.” 

“You’re living on an island.” 

“With eight thousand other people, yes. It’s a short ferry ride to downtown. I'm hardly stranded there.” 

“Of course you Googled the population.” Anakin fiddled with his prosthetic arm. “You don’t have to go, you know. We can figure something out.” 

“By making another deal?” Anakin’s face was answer enough. Sighing, Obi-Wan sat next to him and looked over everything that would need to be packed. Most of it would be staying behind with Anakin, but his books would need to be shipped as would the chest. “It’s a good position on the tenure track, and I'm excited for the collaborative opportunities.” 

“Who actually looks forward to writing papers?” Anakin said, and Obi-Wan recognized it for a truce. 

“Poorly socialized academics,” he said, and Anakin cracked a smile. “Will you be all right here?” 

Anakin made a show of rolling his eyes as if Obi-Wan wouldn’t see through that false bravado. “It’s only a few years, and I can stay with Owen and Beru as I finish university. When time’s up you can sneak me into New Zealand.” 

“I have a very clever plan involving a fake moustache.” He nudged Anakin’s shoulder. “Make sure you always—” 

Anakin held up his hand, revealing the iron beads wrapped twice around his wrist. “It was mom’s. I never take it off.” After a beat, he said, “Does your new place have a widow’s walk? Please tell me it does. It’s very important to me that you have a widow’s walk where you can stare dramatically out at the water while thinking of your lost love.” 

“It’s a flat above a row of shops,” Obi-Wan said dryly. 

“You can’t even let me have this one thing. You know what your problem is? You’re no fun.” 

If only that were his problem, Obi-Wan reflected, staring helplessly at Rex, who was cradling the mug Anakin made when he was ten as a birthday gift. This whole situation was less fun and more hilariously funny if the joke hadn’t been on him. 

“I beg your pardon,” he repeated for what had to be the fifth time, “but married?” 

The coat that had started the whole thing was innocuously hanging on the rack next to the door, and Obi-Wan resisted the urge to glare accusingly at it. 

“Sorry,” said Rex with an awkward shrug, “but I don’t make the rules.” 

* * *

There were rules for nearly everything: beware the paths of the will-o-wisps; stay inside when the Wild Hunt rode; always carry iron in hand and head; never go looking for the Fair Folk in their mounds lest they find you first. 

Never give what cannot be taken. 

* * *

It rained for most of the day, making his last class lethargic and slow. It was clear none of his students had done the reading and trying to get them to participate in the discussion was as bad as trying to talk to Anakin when he was in the middle of a sulk. Obi-Wan finally gave it up as a lost cause and done an abbreviated lecture on how postmodern work adapted traditional fae narratives to explore identity and alienation. And then because he did have a certain reputation to maintain, assigned a short essay where they would need to analyze next week’s reading through that lens, relishing the groans that earned him. 

“And if you come unprepared again,” he said as they filed out, “I will be less inclined to go easy on you.” 

“You’re lucky you’re so good looking,” said Katooni, his grad student, “or otherwise no one would sign up for your courses.” 

“You think I'm good looking?” 

“You’re all right for a white man.” She shook her braids away from her face. “Didn’t you need to catch the early ferry? If you don’t hurry you’ll miss it.’ 

He checked his watch and swore. “You didn’t hear that,” he said and didn’t quite leave at a run. 

“I definitely heard that!” she called after him. 

He didn’t miss the ferry, but it was a near thing. In his rush to board, he bumped into a tall, thin woman with dark hair and pale skin. 

“My apologies,” he said, and she cut him an irritated glare before pushing past him into the cabin. Perhaps it was the low light casting shadows in the hollows of her cheek or the purposeful way she moved, but for just a moment he swore she smelled like—but no, that wasn’t possible. They never crossed into New Zealand. It was one of the reasons why he chose Auckland. 

The cabin was crowded due to the rain, and Obi-Wan found himself sitting on the end of the bench as they left the port to head to Waiheke. He checked the time; he should be able to clean his flat before Cody and his brother arrived for dinner. Cody was of the opinion that without his intervention Obi-Wan would waste away. Honestly, if he didn’t know better he would think Anakin had somehow given Cody very strict instructions. 

He debated reading over Katooni’s latest thesis chapter—he promised her notes before the end of the week—but it had been a long day and the gentle rocking of the ferry was very soothing. Instead he allowed himself the indulgence of studying the man who took a seat across and to the left of him, draping a long brown coat over the back of the chair before pulling out his mobile. 

He was striking with his brown skin and blond hair, and Ob-Wan took in the high arches of the man’s cheekbones and the sharp line of his jaw, and thought that, yes, the man was attractive if one went in for that sort of thing. 

A group of tourists went past, and a girl’s bag snagged the coat, sending it tumbling to the floor. The man, frowning at his mobile, didn’t notice. Before Obi-Wan could say anything, the woman he had bumped into casually leaned over and plucked it up. It was wrong, although he couldn’t say how, and he was out of his seat before he could think better of it. 

“Excuse me,” he said loudly, “but I think you might have taken that by accident.” 

The woman stilled, as if she were contemplating her next move. Obi-Wan snagged the sleeve, near to where she was holding the coat at the shoulder. Her fingers were long and thin, perfectly tapered, and she jerked backwards, letting Obi-Wan pull the coat away. 

“My mistake,” she said, and smiled at the man, who was standing and staring at his coat with something akin to panic. 

“No harm done,” Obi-Wan said. He watched her go, and after he was sure she had slipped out onto the deck, he turned and pressed the coat, soft and warm, into the man’s hands. “You might want to keep a better eye on it.” 

The man looked at him, eyes wide and shocked, and said quietly, “Oh.” 

And that was when, as it were, it went funny. 

* * *

“This cannot possibly be legally binding,” he said. 

“There are old laws,” said Rex. The cloud cover broke once they made land, and now Rex was backlit in the fading light. He looked, Obi-Wan thought with a touch of sourness, entirely too good sitting in Obi-Wan’s small kitchen. “And you saved my coat and gave it back to me. That carries a heavy weight.” 

It took a considerable effort for him not to go to his bookshelf and pull out every book he owned that mentioned selkies. Anakin may have a point about him. 

“I was being polite. I wasn’t expecting a marriage out of it.” 

“Think of it as being rewarded for being a good Samaritan,” Rex said, looking nothing but earnest right up until there was a twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. 

“You bastard, you’ve been having me on.” 

Rex cracked a real smile, and said, “Sorry, but I couldn’t resist. Your face was too good to pass up.” 

“So I’ve been told. I’ll admit your delivery was excellent.” Rex inclined his head in thanks. “I'm assuming we’re not actually married?” 

“No.” 

“That’s a shame,” he said. “I'm could do much worse for a husband.” 

He watched in fascination as the tips of Rex’s ears turned red. “There are laws and obligations,” Rex said. 

“That sounds ominous.” 

Rex turned the mug in his hands. He had barely touched the tea, taking one sip probably out of politeness. Obi-Wan really should have coffee on hands for guests, although the only person he ever had over was Cody, who would buy a flat white from the café as he refused to drink Obi-Wan’s tea, citing it was far too British for his tastes. 

“My brother can explain it better. You said you work at the university?” Obi-Wan nodded. “So does he. Different department than you, I think.” 

A terrible suspicion came upon him. “Is he in humanities?” 

“Science. He teaches anthropology.” 

Now that he was looking for it, Obi-Wan was surprised he didn’t see it sooner. Rex had the same eyebrows and nose and even those same damned high cheekbones he was admiring earlier. This was going to be worse than Anakin. 

“You’re Cody’s brother, the one I'm meeting for dinner,” he said, fatalistic. 

“Wait, _you’re_ Kenobi?” 

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, yes. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

“Well,” said Rex with feeling, “shit.” 

* * *

The stories went like this: long ago the Fair Folk came and went as they pleased. They took what was given and stole what was not, but for all their beauty and all their cleverness, they could neither create nor could they change. 

They were as they had ever been, and men learned that lesson long and they learned it hard. 

* * *

Cody wasn’t the first person to befriend him in Auckland—that honor belonged to Dex at the local café—but he was the one to convince Obi-Wan that perhaps he could belong. 

He met Cody the first day of classes, mere months after he made a deal and packed up his life and crossed an ocean to start over. His story was far from being notable or unusual, and he could either wallow in the past or push up his sleeves and finalize the syllabuses for his lectures he would be teaching, which was how he found himself fumbling with the lock on his office door. 

Office was being generous. He was down in the lower levels of the old humanities building where all the windows were set high to catch what light filtered down. It wasn’t a surprise; the good spaces were reserved for those with tenure. The perils of academia, he reminded himself as the key stuck in the lock. 

“Don’t bother,” a man said, stepping from the neighboring office. “It’s just for show. Here.” He banged a fist to the left of the lock and the door popped open. “What did you do to get put down in the dungeon?” 

“I had the audacity to be hired two months before terms began.” He held out his hand. “Obi-Wan Kenobi.” The man’s expression didn’t change, but Obi-Wan had a lifetime of dealing with his name to recognize that reaction. “Trust me, I’ve heard every possible joke.” 

“Then I won’t bother repeating them. Cody Te Wiata.” His grip was strong and sure. There was a nasty scar curving around his left eye _._ “I'm in the anthropology department.” 

“I’ve read your papers,” Obi-Wan said, and Cody’s eyebrows rose. “They were fascinating, especially the ones examining the intersection between Maori oral tradition and the more accepted fae narratives. I would love to get your thoughts on recent translations of older fae folklore and comparisons made to indigenous cultures if you have the time. Although, that does beg the question of how you ended up down here in the—what did you call it? The dungeon.” 

“They put all the trouble makers down here.” Cody leaned against the doorframe. “My focus is pre-colonialism Aortearoa and the laws that keep the European fae out of our lands.” 

“Ah,” Obi-Wan said, the pieces coming together. “I take it you’re not shy about sharing your thoughts on the matter.” 

“You know how office politics are,” Cody said. 

Obi-Wan did indeed. He fingered the iron nail he carried in his pocket like any good expat despite the fact the Fair Folk never made it into New Zealand, as Cody said. 

“I assume it’s the same here as anywhere else,” he said. 

He looked over the barren desk and the institutional walls, unsurprised by the longing for his small, cramped office back in London that rose thick in his throat. You chose this, he sternly told himself, and it was worth it. 

“Can you tell me where the Linguistics building is? I have a class there in an hour.” 

“No one gave you a tour?” Cody asked. 

Obi-Wan managed a smile. “As I said, I'm a last minute hire.” 

Cody’s expression did something complicated that with the benefit of hindsight Obi-Wan recognized as Cody deciding that a small, helpless animal would die without his intervention. He would be insulted if a part of him hadn’t felt like that same small, helpless creature. 

“I’ll show you around,” Cody said. “After your class is over there are some people you’ll want to meet. I’ll introduce you over lunch. Let’s go.” 

In the nearly three years they’ve known each other, Obi-Wan had come to the conclusion that Cody viewed him as another younger brother that desperately needed looking after despite the fact Obi-Wan was fairly certain he was older. Still, he could at least admit privately, he had needed Cody then as he did now. 

* * *

Cody did not laugh. He instead stared stoically but for the slightest uptick at the corner of his mouth. It was somehow worse. 

“So,” he finally said, “you’ve been back less than a month and you almost had your coat stolen.” 

Rex made the face of every aggrieved younger brother and said, “It was not almost stolen.” 

Cody remained unimpressed. “Yes, because Obi-Wan has better situational awareness than you.” 

“All right,” Obi-Wan said when Rex’s glare sharpened. “It happened. I'm more concerned now with these old laws.” 

“Has Rex told you what it means to return a selkie’s coat?” 

“I already did the marriage act,” said Rex. 

“Damn, I wanted to see his face.” 

“Yes, thank you,” Obi-Wan said, feeling a headache start to come on. “We can all agree that your prank was hilarious and my face is indeed great. Perhaps we can get back to the matter at hand?” 

The two brothers exchanged a look, and Cody said, “What do you know about selkies?” 

Obi-Wan knew what everybody did. If you stole a selkie’s coat, you bound them and kept them from all they loved. They were trapped until their coat was returned, and then they in turn went to the sea forevermore. He had always taken it as a sign that humans were more like the Fair Folk than either would care to admit. 

“They say,” Obi-Wan said, “if you shed seven tears into the sea a selkie will come. Sometime they will save men from drowning. Others give their skins away or bury them so they can remain on land. And some marry men and bear children.” 

“Those are just stories,” Cody said. “What do you really know about us?” 

“Not as much, I suspect.” 

“When they came to colonize us, the white men tried to bring their fae, the Wild Hunt, the elves.” 

“The Fair Folk,” Obi-Wan corrected quietly. He didn’t know what his face was doing to make both the Te Wiata brothers give him identical worried looks. “Not elves. That’s too kind for what they are.” 

“The Fair Folk, then,” Cody said. “Our fae, the ones who kept your Fair Folk out, they remember what we are.” 

Obi-Wan, who had grown up listening to the sound of the Wild Hunt’s ride and watched the will-o-wisps gather on the horizon and had walked with head held high into the mound of the Fair Folk, could feel the difference in the land. 

“We keep the edges,” Cody added. “We tend the shores.” 

“What does that mean for us?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“Some stories are true,” said Rex. “Taking our coats binds us, but doing what you did, keeping it safe, places an obligation on us.” 

The word obligation sat sour and brittle in his stomach, and Obi-Wan said, quick and sharp, “No, I won’t have that.” 

Cody looked startled, and Obi-Wan distantly thought it figured that this is what it took to surprise him. 

“I shouldn’t have put it like that,” Rex said, almost gentle. “You’re not making me do anything against my will.” 

“Think of it like a gift,” Cody said when Obi-Wan went to argue. “You kept his life safe.” 

He must have looked alarmed, because Rex rolled his eyes and said, “It’s not my life.” 

Cody raised an eyebrow and said something sharp in Te Reo that made Rex frown. “Basically,” Cody continued as if that little spat hadn’t happened, “Rex owes you a gift now.” 

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I feel you’re being unnecessarily obtuse and dramatic.” 

“The dramatic speeches are more your style.” 

“That was one budget meeting,” he protested, “and it was hardly dramatic.” 

“One budget and two faculty meetings,” Cody corrected while Rex looked on in unabashed amusement. “And the grad students are still quoting you every time they argue for increased funding.” 

“Please tell me there’s video of this,” Rex said. 

“There isn’t,” Obi-Wan snapped at the same time as Cody said, “It’s on YouTube.” 

The headache bloomed behind his eyes. “Can we perhaps get focus on the matter at hand? I can’t believe you never told me you’re a selkie. 

“It’s nothing personal.” Cody sounded genuinely apologetic. “We have to be careful. Our coats are used against us, and telling outsiders leaves us vulnerable.” 

That was fair, but Obi-Wan was not feeling inclined to fairness. “I’ve met your mother on multiple occasions, and you told me about Quinlan Vos, which is arguably more damning than this.” 

With a younger brother’s unerring ability to sense something potentially embarrassing, Rex’s head snapped around. “Who’s Quinlan Vos?” 

“A colleague,” Cody said, curt. 

“I would say he’s more of a friend,” Obi-Wan said. “He’s always inviting you out for drinks.” 

“And how often do you take him up on that?” Rex asked. 

Cody scowled and said, derisiveness dripping from every word, “He’s an _archaeologist.”_

“Does dad know about this archaeologist colleague you have drinks with? Does _mum?”_

“What you did for Rex,” Cody said firmly, and given how pleased Rex looked Obi-Wan allowed the subject change, “is a gift, and he now owes you one. We pay our debts.” 

“It’s not a debt,” Obi-Wan said, because he knew about obligations and paying what was owed. Rex owed him nothing. “I'm glad I was there and that I could help.” He didn’t know what the look on Rex’s face meant, but it spurred him to say, “Can I release you from this?” 

“No,” Rex said quickly, and Cody’s eyebrows rose. “You’re stuck with me until I can repay you.” 

“You make it sound like such a hardship. Like I said, I could do much worse than you.” And like before the tips of Rex’s ears burned red. 

“That reminds me,” Cody said. “You still need to find a place to live.” 

“I'm staying with you,” Rex said, suspicious. 

“You spent all last night complaining how uncomfortable my couch is.” 

“It’s not that bad.” 

Obi-Wan snorted. The sofa was that bad. He had slept on it often enough after long nights of grading fueled by whiskey and an increasing exasperation at his students’ caviler attitude toward proper citation to know how the springs dug into one’s back. 

“Obi-Wan has a spare room,” Cody said in the same manner that one would lay down a winning hand in a high stakes poker game. 

“Do not drag him into this,” Rex said, and Cody cast a pointed look to where Rex’s coat was hanging in between Obi-Wan’s sweaters. Rex frowned and said something in Te Reo. 

Obi-Wan had always been good with languages and he picked up several phrases since moving to New Zealand, although Cody informed him his accent was still atrocious. Even with his limited comprehension, it was easy to recognize a brotherly spat. He retreated to the kitchen to give them some privacy. 

It was true that he had a spare room that he mainly used as an office. The flat had come partially furnished, and when he offhandedly mentioned he still needed a desk and some bookshelves, the Cody had shown up at his door the next day with two of his brothers and several pieces of furniture. 

He glanced at Rex’s coat, and couldn’t escape the fact that this was the first time he had lived alone in years. Most mornings he still expected to hear Anakin’s tortured groan as the alarm went off. It would be nice to have someone else knocking about. 

Cody’s voice dropped, and when Obi-Wan glanced over it was to find Rex staring back at him with a flush creeping up his neck. 

Cody followed his gaze and said, satisfied, “That settles it. Rex can stay here until he’s repaid you.” 

“It’s still not a debt,” Obi-Wan reminded him. “And you should know the room doesn’t come with a bed.” 

“One of us will have a spare,” Cody said. 

Rex sighed and looked heavenward. “Obi-Wan, would it be all right if I stayed with you until I find another place? And I'm sorry that my brother is a rude bastard who doesn’t think he needs to ask.” 

“I already knew that about Cody. I do believe that’s one of the reasons Quinlan likes him.” Cody’s expression didn’t change, but Obi-Wan could feel the annoyance wafting from him. “Of course you can stay, Rex. I would hate to subject you to Cody for any length of time.” 

“Look at you two getting along already.” Cody stood before pulling Rex off the sofa as well. “Now let’s go to dinner as I know you don’t keep food in here like a normal person.” 

Obi-Wan shared a commiserating look with Rex, who said, “Welcome to my childhood.” 

As Cody casually cuffed Rex round the back of the head, Obi-Wan keenly felt Anakin’s absence. Two years and five months, he reminded himself as he grabbed the keys from the bowl by the door. That was hardly any time at all. 

“You all right?” Rex asked quietly. “We don’t have to go out.” 

“I'm fine,” Obi-Wan said. “Do you need your coat?” 

“No,” Rex said. “It’s safe here.” 

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, at a loss. 

“Are you two coming?” Cody asked from the bottom of the stairs. 

“Yes,” he said, and locked the door behind them. 

* * *

This is what everyone knew about the Fair Folk: they could not lie but they did not tell the truth; they dealt in favors and debt; they wielded their glamour like a knife, precisely; the world outgrew them, but they still walked in the spaces men carved for them. 

It was possible to make a deal with them, if you were desperate enough, if you were willing to give enough, for the Fair Folk loved to be owed and they always took more than they bestowed. 

* * *

Morning found Rex at the stove, poking at a pan with a spatula. Obi-Wan paused in the doorway of his room. For a moment he thought that somehow, impossibly, he was back home and Anakin had dragged himself out of bed in search of food and coffee. 

But this was his life now, living in a place where it was spring in November and Rex made breakfast in borrowed clothes. He had spent the night since, as Cody had pointedly observed, his coat was already there. Rex’s ears flushed red and he muttered something that Obi-Wan assumed was deeply insulting under his breath. 

Obi-Wan had offered him sleep pants and a shirt made soft by the years. He and Rex were near the same height, although Rex was broader across the shoulders, and the loaned shirt, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but notice, was stretched tight. 

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Good morning. You didn’t have to cook.” 

“I don’t mind.” Rex dug out the sad remnants of a loaf of bread, sliding two pieces into the toaster. “I thought Cody was exaggerating but you really just have some eggs and a block of cheese.” 

He stepped around Rex to turn on the electric kettle. “That’s not true. You obviously found the bread and I know for a fact there’s half a bottle of brown sauce in there.” 

“I want you to know what you just said is very sad.” Rex opened the correct cupboard to pass him a mug. He had apparently acquainted himself with the kitchen. 

“Did you sleep all right?” He took out the milk. There was just enough for his tea. “I know the sofa isn’t that comfortable.” 

“It’s better than Cody’s.” The toast popped, and Rex slid them onto the plates, piling the eggs on top. “Here, eat.” 

“Why does your family feel the need to feed me? You mother keeps sending me food via Cody.” 

“We have a weakness for skinny white boys.” 

“Well, that certainly explains why Cody thinks I'm going to starve if he goes a day without seeing me.” He took a bite of his eggs and toast. “Do you have plans for today?” 

Rex took a seat at the table and pointedly waited until Obi-Wan did the same. “I'm going to get my things out of storage, and Bly has a spare mattress and bed frame for me to pick up.” 

“I have morning class and office hours, but I can come back early if you need help. I know from experience it’s not easy transporting everything on the ferry.” 

Rex made the same exact complicated expression as Cody, and Obi-Wan bit back the urge to point he was an adult who was fully capable of taking care of himself. “Wolffe has a boat. He’s agreed to help out.” 

Of course one of Rex’s family owned a boat. The Te Wiatas were all frighteningly efficient and insanely competent. He was convinced the only reason they hadn’t taken over the country was because none of them had the patience for bullshit, which was an essential part of politics. 

“Wolffe is a cousin, right?” he asked. “I'm fairly certain you’re the only one of Cody’s brothers I had left to meet, but there are so very many of you. Cody made me a chart of your entire family once, but I admit I have trouble keeping track.” 

“Yeah, Wolffe’s a cousin. I only have five brothers.” 

“Oh, only five.” He scooped up the last of his eggs. 

“Is that your brother?” Rex nodded to the picture of Anakin tacked onto the refrigerator. 

It was from when Anakin still had the unfortunate fringe that fell into his eyes. He was all coltish limbs back then, suffering through aches and pain as he entered yet another growth spurt. Anakin had been so miserable and so angry for so long, and Obi-Wan hadn’t known how to make it better for him, but god, he wanted to. There wasn’t anything Obi-Wan wouldn’t do for him. 

“Yes,” he said, and embarrassingly his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Yes. That’s Anakin. He’s back in London.” 

There were other photographs scatted about the flat: of him and Qui-Gon; then the ones where they were joined by Shmi and Anakin; followed by the ones where Qui-Gon was absent; and then, finally, the ones where only he and Anakin remained. It was an easy narrative to follow if you were observant, which Obi-Wan was sure Rex was irritatingly so. 

“Is he coming for the holidays?” Rex asked. “Mum will want to feed him, too.” 

“No, he’s not.” He took their empty plates to the sink. “I’ve left the spare keys by the door for you. I’ll be back this afternoon, but call me if you need help.” 

“All right,” Rex said after a moment where the silence hung heavy between them. “I’ll see you later, yeah?” 

“Yes,” he said, and took a deep breath before turning around. Rex’s expression was perfectly blank. “Have a good day.” 

Rex softened. “You, too. Go easy on your students. I’ve heard stories about you.” 

“Cody is a terrible liar,” he said, fishing out his own set of keys. 

“Trust me, I know.” Rex rolled his shoulders in a manner that was only mildly distracting. “I got the dishes. Go before you miss the ferry.” 

He collected his bag. “Thank you.” 

Rex smiled. “Don’t mention it. Go to work.” 

Obi-Wan went. He hadn’t, he thought, had anyone to eat breakfast with or come back to for some time. It was nice. 

* * *

His morning class was Introduction to British Fae Literature, which was full of first years and those fulfilling their English requirement. Today’s lecture was one he gave every year, and as he worked his way through it he noticed a pale woman with dark hair in the back of the hall, for all appearances listening intently. 

Katooni took over as the students split up into small groups for discussion, but by the time he made it around the hall the woman was gone. He touched the nail in his pocket and told himself he was being foolish. 

“I hate undergrads,” Katooni said after assigning that week’s reading and releasing the students back into the wild. The charms on her arms lit up with her irritation. 

“You do remember you were an undergrad once,” Obi-Wan said. 

“Yes, but I at least had the good sense to Wikipedia a plot summary.” 

“You’re a very responsible student,” he said. “Did you recognize the woman sitting in the back? I haven’t seen her before.” 

Katooni looked at the sign in sheet before shaking her head. “She may just be sitting in for the lecture. I told you, Dr. Kenobi, you’re not tragic looking for a white man.” 

“And I'm very relieved to hear that.” He finished packing his bag. “How is your thesis coming?” 

She made a face, which was answer enough. He remembered his own days spent drinking too much tea and spending so much time in the library that the librarians regularly called Anakin to come drag him away. Ah, the glamorous life of a post-grad. 

“I’ve sent you some references that I think will help your section where you’re interrogating translator bias regarding non-Western European fae narratives.” 

“Do I really need that section?” she asked, plaintive. “I mean, thank you, I appreciate it, but also it makes me want to die.” 

“That’s the spirit.” 

His mobile chimed with a text from Rex: _hey_ _cleaning out the room. can i move the books?_

_Yes. Put them next to the bookcases in the main room. I’ll shelve them later. You can move the desk, too. I apologize for the mess._

The reply came gratifyingly quickly. _you’ve never lived with fives. this is nothing._

“Are you smiling?” Katooni asked, suspicious. “You don’t smile.” 

“We both know that’s not true.” He tucked his mobile away. “I smiled when I gave you my notes on your last chapter.” 

‘That,” she said firmly, “was not a smile.” She checked the time. “I have to teach a survey and then lose my will to live in the library.” 

“Have fun,” he said, and received a tortured groan in reply. 

He stepped out into the sun and wondered if it would ever feel normal for spring to happen in November. There was a very British part of him that was of the firm opinion that it should not be sunny and twenty out. The proper November weather consisted of a miserable rain that lasted for weeks on end. 

He found Cody waiting outside his office with a cup of tea. If it were anyone else Obi-Wan would have called it lurking, but Cody just gave the impression of infinite patience. 

“Hello,” Obi-wan said, accepting the cup. “Do you mind?” 

Cody knocked his fist against the door until it popped open; Obi-Wan still hadn’t mastered that trick. “How’s Rex?” Cody asked. 

“He’s fine.” He hit the light switch and kicked the more rickety of the two chairs towards Cody. “I'm fine, too, by the way.” 

“You’re always fine,” Cody said so mildly that he must mean something by it, but he serenely ignored the sharp look Obi-Wan gave him. “Now that you’re living together you should know he’s very stubborn.” 

“Because you’re famously easy going.” 

“It runs in the family.” Cody took a drink of his coffee, and Obi-Wan made a mental note to pick up a bag on his way home. “You all right with him moving in?” 

“Oh, now you ask? No, it’s fine. If I had a problem with it I would have said so.” He booted up his computer. The end of the term was fast approaching and he was behind in writing the exams and finalizing the grading rubrics for the final papers. 

“Good. I always thought you two would get along.” 

It was impossible to read Cody unless he wanted you to, and right now Obi-Wan had no idea what his expression meant. 

“I never thanked you,” Cody continued, “for what you did for him.” 

“I would have been faster if I knew,” he said, and that was true. He had thought about that last night as he waited for sleep to come, if he had decided to read Katooni’s thesis, if he had been just a bit slower. His stomach twisted. 

Cody was quiet before saying, “Rex was in the military. He finished his last tour and took his discharge. We just got him back and we almost lost him again. We owe you for keeping him safe.” 

“You don’t,” Obi-Wan said. “I won’t let anyone take your coats.” 

At the end of his first term teaching, Cody had taken him to a family dinner. Even limited as it had been to Cody’s immediate family and a few cousins, there had been quite a few of them, and after the first hour Obi-Wan had given up trying to remember all the names. 

“We’ll make a list for you later,” said Anahera, the undisputed matriarch. Cody may have inherited his eyebrows from his father, but everything else, including his perfect unreadable expression, came from his mother. She pushed a second plate at him. “You’re too skinny. Jango! Remind me to send him home with a plate.” 

Selkies were close knit, secretive, and notoriously wary of outsiders, but the Te Wiatas had welcomed him into their midst, and several times a month Anahera sent Cody over with various containers filled with meals for him. And if he sometimes looked at them and thought there was something they weren’t telling him, well, it wasn’t like he didn’t have secrets of his own. 

“I know you will,” Cody said. “I have a lab to teach. You want to get lunch after?” 

“I think I might take an early day.” 

Cody gave him a knowing look and said, “He likes dark roast,” because he was bastard who thought he knew everything. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now get out of my office before I remind Quinlan you still owe him a drink.” 

“You have nothing on me,” Cody said. 

“Then you won’t mind if I tell Rex all the nothing I have,” he said, and smiled at the rude gesture Cody made on his way out. 

* * *

They said the Fair Folk took his parents. After all, his mother had been a dancer and his father a dreamer. Somewhere, under one of the mounds, his mother danced for the queens and his father dreamt for the kings, and one day if he was very brave Obi-Wan would find them again. 

It was Qui-Gon who sat him down and explained to him, gentle and kind and so very terrible, that his parents were dead, and even if he brought iron shovels to dig he would not see them again. 

And then, later, he would be the one to tell Anakin the same, that his mother had died. Anakin wouldn’t speak for weeks. 

But this was a truth: death was a mercy. The Fair Folk would have made his mother dance until her legs went numb and her feet bloody, and they would bid his father sleep and dream and never awaken again. 

* * *

He cut his office hours short and bought coffee on his way to the ferry. It was an uncommonly warm spring day, and he sat out on the deck in the sun with the wind in his hair and the smell of the sea in his lungs. This was why he lived on Waiheke instead of in Auckland proper; the sky was more open out on the water. 

Rex’s coat was still hanging just inside the flat, and Obi-Wan ran curious fingers over it. It was soft and sleek, and his first thought was that it must be very warm and heavy to wear. His second thought was that this was oddly intimate in a way he hadn’t expected, and yet he still smoothed his hand down the length of it before moving on. 

“Oh,” Echo said in the kitchen, “hello. I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until later.” 

“I decided to take a half day,” he answered. 

There were bags lining the counters and boxes stacked in the main room. Through the open door of Rex’s room he could see the edges of a bed frame. 

“Where is everyone?” he asked, careful not to knock over Echo’s cane where it was leaning against the table. He set the coffee down and moved to turn on the kettle. 

“They ran out of room in the van for the mattress so they had to go back for it. They should be here soon. Oh, I moved the flour and sugar to make room for the spices. I hope you don’t mind.” 

“Out of curiosity, what am I going to see if I open the refrigerator?” He poured a cup for Echo and himself. 

“Definitely not meals mum made specifically for you and Rex so you wouldn’t go hungry.” Echo curled his prosthetic hand around the mug. Like Anakin’s, there were mobility charms etched in its surface. 

Obi-Wan peered into the closest bag to find it was full of vegetables. He didn’t know what he expected. 

“If she feeds you,” Echo said as a clattering from the stairs reached them, “it means she likes you.” 

Slowly and with a gratuitous amount of swearing, a large mattress made it through the door, followed closely by Rex, Fives, and a woman Obi-Wan didn’t recognize. The trio maneuvered it into the main room and dropped it on the floor. 

“Don’t help us or anything,” Fives said, breathing hard. 

“I could maybe lend a hand,” Echo said to his twin, waving his prosthetic and smiling at Fives’ disgruntled face. 

“That still isn’t funny.” Fives fell back onto the mattress. “I can’t feel my arms. Don’t,” he snapped, pointing at Echo, “say anything.” 

The woman shook back her locs and said, “You must be Obi-Wan.” Her face was more freckles than skin, and she wore a sleeveless shirt to, he assumed, better show off her muscled arms. She looked him up and down and whistled. “Rex was right. You are—hey!” 

“This is Ahsoka,” Rex said casually as if he hadn’t just viciously jabbed Ahsoka in her side. “Don’t listen to any of the shit she says.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Obi-Wan said while Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “Are you—” 

“I'm not a selkie,” she said cheerfully. “But I am selkie adjacent.” 

“I was going to ask if you were one of the many family members I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting yet, but that is nice to know.” 

“Oh.” If she was blushing her dark skin hid it. “I'm not technically related. Rex and I served together.” She and Rex tapped fists together in a complicated rhythm. 

“Mum adopted her, too,” said Fives. “It’s like she forgets she has actual children.” 

“Or she wants ones she can be proud of,” said Rex, smirking at Fives’ outraged face. “Get up. We still need to get this into the bedroom.” 

Fives rolled to his feet with a lot of theatric sighing, so like Anakin Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile. 

“You could just sleep out here,” Ahsoka suggested. “Look how much light it gets.” 

“I doubt Obi-Wan would be fine with losing his living room,” Rex said. 

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan said. “It has a nice feng shui. It really opens up the flow of the room.” 

“Don’t encourage them,” Rex said while Fives snickered. “Come on, let’s go.” 

As the three of them heaved the mattress upright and staggered into the room, Echo reached into a bag and pulled out an entire roasted chicken. 

“I can’t believe you went shopping,” Obi-Wan said. 

“We don’t have any food,” Rex called back. “When was the last time you went to the store?” 

He probably shouldn’t need to think about it as long as he did. 

“You’re just proving my point.” 

There was a thump and a muffled yelp and then, finally, they reemerged. 

“I am never helping you move again,” Ahsoka said, rolling her shoulders. 

Fives collapsed onto the sofa. “You promised me food.” 

“And beer,” Ahsoka added, taking a seat at the table. “Come on, Rex, feed me.” 

“Fine, I’ll heat something,” Rex said, the picture of exasperated older brother as he shooed Echo out of the kitchen. 

Obi-Wan pulled a beer from the refrigerator and passed it to Ahsoka, who used her ring to pop off the cap. “I don’t know if you noticed,” she said, “but your threshold is weak. Rented spaces are hard to work with, but you’ve been here, what, a couple years?” 

“Going on three,” Obi-Wan answered. 

The first month in the flat he had done the responsible thing and spent an afternoon drawing charms for safety and warmth and comfort along the top and sides of the doorway, the same ones Qui-Gon had taught him when he first took Obi-Wan in. A week later the charms had faded, and so he had gone over them again. The third time they refused to take he had to admit the problem lay not with the building but with him. 

Ahsoka frowned. “The building is solid. It’s got history, and after three years something should stick, even if it’s faint.” 

“I'm afraid I don’t have the knack for it,” Obi-Wan said, which wasn’t a lie, but did not constitute the entire truth. 

“I can take a look if you want. I’ve worked with less. You should’ve seen what I did with the barracks.” 

“Tano,” Rex said, placing one of Anahera’s dishes in the oven, “drop it.” 

“Offer is open,” she said, and then her smile went sly. “Hey, Obi-Wan, tell the truth, did you really save Rex’s coat from being stolen?” 

“Christ,” Rex muttered as the twins’ heads whipped around. 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. 

“You almost had it stolen?” Fives said, twisting around to prop his chin on the back of the sofa. “And you said I need to be more responsible.” 

Rex pulled out a beer. “You do. You left yours on the beach.” 

Fives waved a dismissive hand. “Echo was watching it. Mine was never stolen out from under me. No wonder Mum is so disappointed in you.” 

Rex turned to him and said, “Thanks for this.” 

“You’re welcome.” Obi-Wan grabbed the coffee. “I hope this makes up for it. Cody said you preferred dark roast and the barista recommended it. If you don’t like it I can get something else.” 

“No,” Rex said, taking the package from him with a slow, small smile. “This is good. You didn’t have to.” 

“Consider it a housewarming gift,” Obi-Wan said, helpless but to return Rex’s smile. 

“Wow,” Ahsoka said, and Obi-Wan turned to see three very interested gazes on them. 

“If I'm feeding you,” Rex said, the tips of his ears red, “make yourselves useful and get some plates.” He pointed at Fives. “Whatever you’re thinking of saying, don’t.” 

“I was just going to ask where the forks were,” said Fives. 

“No, you weren’t,” said Echo. 

“No, I wasn’t,” Fives agreed. “Hey, Rex, did you know your face is really embarrassing?” 

“I’ll handle this,” said Ahsoka, “but you owe me one.” 

Over the sound of Fives yelping as Ahsoka’s handling of the situation seemed to require quite a few shoulder punches, Rex said, “I'm sorry about them.” 

“It’s all right,” he said, “I know how brothers are.” 

* * *

“Obi-Wan,” Satine said as she took his hand, careful and gentle, “I am so sorry.” 

* * *

It was dark out by the time Rex had firmly closed the door behind his family. 

“It was real nice meeting you, Obi-Wan,” Ahsoka called over Rex’s shoulder, and then, horrifyingly, winked at him. “Let me know if you want help with your threshold!” 

Rex collapsed onto the sofa. “Please ignore everything they said.” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Obi-Wan said, gathering up the plates and glasses. “I did enjoy that story about you as a young lieutenant and the—what did Ahsoka call it? Ah, yes, the Flag Incident.” 

“Would it help to know she never liked me?” 

“Yes, you two clearly despise one another.” When he placed the dishes in the sink and Rex made to stand, he said, “No, no, you did everything else. I can wash up.” 

“I should make my bed.” Rex looked over the boxes. “I don’t remember where I packed the sheets.” 

“I have spares.” Obi-Wan went to what he had converted into a linen closet and pulled out a set and, after a moment of hesitation, Shmi’s quilt. “Here, I’ll help you make it up.” 

“You don’t have to,” said Rex. 

Obi-Wan refrained from pointing out that Rex had spent a day carrying boxes and a mattress up a flight of stairs and was swaying on his feet. He just stepped into Rex’s room and shook out the fitted sheet, waiting patiently until Rex came to help tuck in the corners. 

They worked quickly, and when Obi-Wan unfolded the quilt, Rex said, “This is beautiful.” 

“It belonged to my, well, stepmother, I suppose.” He smoothed out the wrinkles, lingering over the blue and green patches laid out like a wave. “Her grandmother made several, and they were passed down to her mother, and then to her, and then she gave them to myself and Anakin.” 

Rex’s expression was soft and open as he carefully handled the quilt as if it was something precious. Obi-Wan often wondered how true the stories were of well loved items retaining a bit of protection. He looked at Rex, who was a bit more than human, and thought maybe this one did. 

“I know I should have asked before,” Rex said, “but do you want me here?” 

Obi-Wan did not look at the boxes lined against the wall because he was not, contrary to Cody’s repeatedly stated opinion, a total arsehole. “If I was opposed I would have said something.” 

“That’s not an answer.” 

They had sat next to each other at dinner, and Rex scowled and flushed with every story Ahsoka and his brothers told, and Obi-Wan thought that Anakin would have loved it. 

“I'm glad you’re here,” he said. “Good night, Rex.” 

“Good night, Obi-Wan,” Rex said, and gently closed the door after him. 

* * *

The Fair Folk, it was said, could not be found but did the finding. Their tongues were honeyed and clever and they were ruthless like a drought was ruthless and merciless in the way an avalanche was without mercy. 

He knew the stories told of the Fair Folk, the silver deals lining their lips and the sweet sweep of their mouths, and while he was a clever man, he was not so clever to think his ending would be kind. 

But this was true: at the root, all stories were about want, and, oh, how the Fair Folk _wanted_. 

And so Obi-Wan walked until he was found, and he said, “I have a deal for you.” 

A doorway opened, and he stepped into the mound. 

* * *

Once Rex was officially moved in, when his books were shelved next to Obi-Wan’s and he had rearranged the kitchen to his liking, they found a comfortable rhythm to living together. Rex took over cooking duties and Obi-Wan did the washing up. He even volunteered for the laundry when it became clear that first week Rex would throw all the clothes together in one large load and hope for the best. 

“You know I’m perfectly capable of preparing at least one meal,” Obi-Wan said while Rex made pancakes. Rex had gone swimming again that morning, and the edges of his hair were still damp. 

“I don’t mind.” Rex poured more batter into the pan. “I'm the only one of my brothers who likes to cook. Cody doesn’t have the patience and Echo tends to experiment. Kix is too busy with school, and Fives and Boba have been banned from the kitchen after the rice incident.” 

Obi-Wan took out the butter and syrup. “Anakin’s the same. He can use the microwave, but he’s not allowed near the stove. His mother tried to teach him, but he just doesn’t have the skill.” 

Obi-Wan had written most of his term papers in the kitchen listening to Anakin complain while Shmi walked him through recipe after recipe, determined that he wouldn’t live off takeaway. 

Rex slid the pancakes onto a plate and passed it over. “I'm still not convinced you know how to use anything but the kettle.” 

“I could prove it to you,” he said, pouring the syrup over his pancakes, “but you won’t let me in your kitchen.” 

“I just got everything how I wanted. I don’t want you ruining my system.” 

On the mornings when Obi-Wan went to the café to go over his lecture notes before leaving for the mainland, Rex would meet him there after his swim, and Obi-Wan would make sure the coat was tucked securely between them as they sat at the counter. 

“I saw your boy at the beach earlier,” said Dex, who was large and Australian and had decided he was Obi-Wan’s friend at their first meeting. 

“He’s not my boy,” Obi-Wan said, although it was useless as Dex’s selective hearing was legendary. 

Dex set out a cup and a carafe of coffee. “It’s pretty empty that early, but he should still be careful. Someone might notice certain habits.” 

It took a great deal of effort for Obi-Wan to keep his gaze on his notes. “I’ll let him know,” he said around the knot in his throat. 

“Relax, brother. No one here is going to hassle him.” 

By the time Rex came in, coat draped over his arm, Dex was just setting down their plates. Dex claimed to be only human, but his timing was preternatural and Obi-Wan had long since given up trying to determine how he did it. 

Obi-Wan took the coat as Rex poured a cup of coffee, nodding his thanks to Dex, who was already bustling over to help a group of tourists. 

“Dex saw you this morning,” he said quietly. 

Rex added cream to his coffee. “He likes to surf.” 

“He _saw_ you.” 

“Huh,” Rex said, spearing a strawberry. “He’s all right.” 

Obi-Wan swallowed a sigh. “That’s not the point. What if had been someone else?” 

To take a selkie’s coat was to shackle them. They would go where they were sent and do what they were told and inside they would be wailing for the sea. 

“You don’t even keep it in a closet at home,” Obi-Wan added. “You just leave it on the hook by the door. What if someone breaks in? What if they take it?” 

“They won’t,” said Rex. “It’s safe there.” 

But it wasn’t, and that thought haunted him through his lectures and an awkward meeting with Katooni, who kept asking if everything was all right when he said she did good work. 

“You drew an actual sad face on a student’s paper last term,” she said. “I think you drove them to drink.” 

“It was not a sad face. It was a disappointed one.” 

“Yeah, because that’s better.” She hesitated and then said, “But everything is okay, Dr. Kenobi?” 

“I'm fine,” he repeated firmly. “Go teach your class.” 

The problem lay with him, he reflected as he arrived back at the flat and stared at the faded charms that refused to take. It wasn’t as if he lacked the necessary connections to lay them down; this may not be London, but he had a good job and friends and he genuinely liked the life he built. It just wasn’t home. 

It hadn’t been much of a concern when it was only him rattling about. He owned nothing of value besides a few familial heirlooms that carried mainly sentimental worth. But there was Rex now, and his coat was infinitely more precious than the books Satine gave him or Qui-Gon’s old kettle. 

The chest sat under his bedroom window where it caught the morning light. It had to be shipped into the country and spent a month in customs before being cleared. He used it as storage for the many gifts Anakin had given him over the years: lumpy and oddly proportioned pottery; bits of machinery that grew more complex the older Anakin got; the small luck charms that would appear on his desk every term; pens and stationary and an old fashioned inkwell. Anakin had never been a shy child, but he had been unsure of his welcome those first months their two respective families were trying to fit together. One day, a month in, he had quietly placed a simple windup bird at Obi-Wan’s elbow before running off. 

Obi-Wan ran a thumb over that same bird before placing it on the shelf near his bed. He had carefully packed it all away in the hope that it would lessen the thin, lost feeling that was his constant companion the first year in Auckland. Now it was merely bittersweet, and even that would fade in time. 

He dragged the chest into the main room. It was smaller than a steamer trunk but heavy given the inlaid strips of iron. The lock was made of iron as was the key, which he tucked into his pocket. It would do, he decided as he cast a critical eye over the various charms etched into the old wood. 

As Rex was still out, he went to work finalizing the grading rubrics and writing the exams for his two introduction courses. At one point during his academic career he believed teaching must be easier than being a student, but some terms it felt as if he pulled just as many late nights. 

By the time that Rex and Ahsoka clattered up the stairs Obi-Wan had finished one exam and was half done with the other. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it had the familiar cadence of their debate on what to do now they were out of the military. Every time Ahsoka brought up going back to university, Rex would give a noncommittal shrug, even when Obi-Wan offered to put in a good word with the admissions committee. 

“I'm just saying,” said Ahsoka as she opened the door. 

“You’re always just saying,” Rex answered, and added something in Te Reo that made Ahoska huff out an irritated sigh. 

“Hello,” Obi-Wan said, unsurprised to see they both carried bags from the shops. Rex, distressingly like his mother, had decided that Obi-Wan was incapable of feeding himself and made it his task to keep the cupboards and refrigerator fully stocked. The last time Obi-Wan had seen that much fresh produce in one place was when Anakin was fifteen and showing the early signs of scurvy. 

“Hey, Obi-Wan,” Ahsoka said. “You’re back ea—are you wearing glasses?” 

“Yes,” he said, resisting the urge to straighten them. “My contacts were bothering me.” 

Ahsoka turned back to Rex and said, “I totally get it now.” She gave him a consoling pat on the shoulder. 

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows, but Rex refused to meet his gaze as he emptied the bags. A lot of people—well, Cody and Anakin—had said many unkind things about his organizational system regarding his books, but they had obviously never seen what Rex did to the kitchen cupboards and drawers. Obi-Wan still wasn’t sure where Rex moved the knives and at this point he was too proud to ask. 

“What’s this?” Ahsoka asked when she spotted the chest next to the sofa. 

“It’s a family heirloom.” He closed his laptop and set it aside. 

“May I?” When he nodded, she knelt and ran gentle hands over the rounded lid. “There’s at least, what, two layers of charms?” 

“Three,” Obi-Wan corrected. “There’s more on the inside. It’s not locked.” 

She lifted the lid and whistled. “This is amazing. Rex, take a look at this. This is for preservation, but it’s combined with one I don’t recognize.” 

“It’s protection for well loved items,” Obi-Wan said as Rex peered over Ahsoka’s shoulder. 

She rocked back on her heels. “This is beautiful work.” 

“My great-great-aunt made it as a gift for her partner.” 

“Partner,” Ahsoka said, “or _partner?”_

“The latter. I believed they were referred to as spinsters. They shared a home for over twenty years.” 

“Aw, I love old-timey lesbians.” She closed the chest lid. “Your aunt was seriously talented, but why the iron?” 

“To keep out the Fair Folk,” Rex said, his arms crossed as he assessed Obi-Wan. “This was in your room. You cleaning again?” 

“Oh, no.” He pulled the key from his pocket. “It’s actually for you.” 

Rex’s arms dropped, and Ahsoka looked between them before springing to her feet and saying brightly, “So I just remembered I promised to meet Barriss for a thing.” 

“Tano,” Rex said, but Ahsoka was already at the door. 

“I’ll talk to you later,” she said, and then it was the two of them. 

“It’s for your coat,” Obi-Wan said. 

“Yeah, I figured.” Rex sighed. “I appreciate the gesture, but I'm not taking your family’s heirloom.” 

“Then consider it a loan,” he said, which made Rex frown. “I know you said your coat’s safe here, but I can’t even manage a basic threshold. There’s nothing stopping anyone from breaking in and stealing it.” 

Rex’s eyebrows rose. “I was in the army, you know, and you are severely underestimating my family’s position and reputation.” 

“Someone almost stole it once, and I'm not going to let that happen again. My aunt made the chest so that nothing could break into it, not even the Fair Folk.” He held out the key, nearly pleading. “Just humor me. Please.” 

Rex accepted the key, running his thumb along the teeth. “When I first enlisted, I realized I had to leave my coat behind. Too much risk something would happen to it. Cody kept it for me, but I could feel what was missing. We always know when it’s not with us.” 

“Is that why you brought it with you?” Obi-Wan asked, because he’d wondered. He had never seen Cody with his coat in all the time they’d known each other. 

“I didn’t want to not have it anymore, but I almost lost it anyway.” He closed his fingers over the key. “I'm supposed to be repaying you, and you keep—” He cut himself off. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” Obi-Wan said, and then because he couldn’t help himself sometimes, he added, “And you don’t owe me anything.” 

“Tell that to my mum,” Rex said. 

Obi-Wan watched as Rex retrieved his coat, folding it neatly before placing it in the chest. When he heard the tumblers turn over, Obi-Wan breathed out, relieved; Rex was safe now. 

“Come on,” said Rex, sliding the key into his pocket. “You get to help with dinner since Ahsoka decided to run off.” 

“What happened to me only knowing how to use the kettle?” 

“I figured you earned a little trust.” Rex placed a hand between his shoulders and steered him to the kitchen. “And I'm not putting away everything by myself. You live here, too.” 

“I suppose I do,” he said. 

* * *

When he emerged, the sun was high in the sky and three days had lapsed. Satine was waiting for him at the hospital, exhausted and furious, and Obi-Wan loved her, even then. 

“You fucking idiot,” she said. “What did you do?” 

* * *

As it happened every year, the end of the term was suddenly upon him, and all his time was spent proctoring finals and grading a seemingly endless amount of papers. On the last day of exams, for just a moment, he thought he saw a woman with pale skin and dark hair studiously bent over the test. He set the nail on his desk and waited, but she never came to turn in her booklet and none of the other students flinched away from the iron. When he looked for her again, she was gone. 

Foolish, he told himself, but gripped the nail tight. 

By the end of the week, he had a stack of papers to finish grading and the overwhelming urge to drink, same as every term. 

Cody rapped knuckles against his open office door, his own stack tucked under his arm. “Let’s get it over with. I already picked up a bottle of whiskey and there’s a new Thai place near me that delivers.” 

“Actually,” he said, shoving the papers into his bag, “I was thinking that perhaps this time we go to mine. Rex is making a curry.” 

Cody’s expression didn’t change. “Sure. I’ve barely seen either of you.” 

“You see me every day.” Obi-Wan hoisted the bag on his shoulder and winced at the weight. 

“Not recently.” 

He went to argue, but between his students’ monopolizing his office hours in a final, frantic effort to improve their grade, proctoring exams, and catching the earlier ferry, there was perhaps a slight chance he only saw Cody in passing. 

“You can make it up by taking some of my exams,” Cody said. 

“I will never feel that guilty,” he said, and hit the lights. 

They did just enough grading on the ferry to be fairly pessimistic about the competency of their respective students, and Cody’s complaint about how one first year completely misunderstood the theories behind oral tradition was cut short by the smells drifting out of the flat. 

“This is a better call than the Thai place,” Cody said. 

Obi-Wan graciously did not rub that in his face, instead opening the door to find Rex plating the curry. There was even naan. 

“You always did go domestic given half the chance,” Cody said. 

“If you weren’t hungry you could have just said so,” Rex replied; he was pointedly only holding two plates. 

“It was just an observation. No need to get defensive.” 

Knowing that the two of them could go on for hours, Obi-Wan took both plates, handing one to Cody, and said, “Thank you, Rex. This looks amazing.” 

“I just threw it together,” Rex said, and dished up a serving for himself. 

Cody rolled his eyes, and Obi-Wan kicked him in the ankle before he could say anything. 

“So why are you here?” Rex asked once they had all settled in at the table and steadily worked their way through the meal. Like his mother, Rex always made too much. Since he moved in, Obi-Wan hadn’t needed to buy lunch at the university cafeteria once. 

“Exams are over,” Obi-Wan said, “which means we have to submit grades, and to do that we need to actually grade everything.” 

“We’ll knock it out in one night,” Cody added, pushing away his empty plate. 

“How much do you have?” Rex asked. 

Wordlessly, Cody pointed to the coffee table and the two respective stacks waiting for them. Katooni had taken about half of the written exams for the Introduction to British Fae Literature, but given the course she taught and her own exams, Obi-Wan didn’t have the heart to burden her with more. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna need this,” Rex said, and pulled out the bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “Go get started. I’ll wash up. Just for tonight,” he added when Obi-Wan went to protest. “You can go back to doing it tomorrow.” 

Mollified, he and Cody retreated to the sofa. Cody poured for him, and said, “Once more into the breach.” 

“Godspeed,” Obi-Wan replied dryly, and touched their glasses together. They drank, and then, properly fortified, they grimly bent to their work. 

Rex joined them, settling into the armchair after choosing a book from their meticulously organized shelves. Unlike Cody, he had patiently listened to Obi-Wan’s explanation of his indexing system and adopted it without complaint, which was more than Anakin could ever manage. His favorite game had been to subtly shelve books wrong and wait to see how long it took Obi-Wan to notice. 

“I have two failures so far,” Cody said, pulling Obi-Wan’s attention away from how Rex smoothed down the pages of his book. “What are you at?” 

“None so far,” he answered, topping up his drink, “but give it an hour.” 

The night wore on, and he and Cody would read the worst bits aloud while Rex laughed quietly in the background. They drank more and at one point switched exams for a bit just to break up the monotony. 

It was very late by the time Obi-Wan scribbled his last notes in the margin and assigned a letter grade to the paper. 

“Did you draw a sad face?” Rex asked, looking down at him. 

Obi-Wan had long since moved to the floor so that Cody could stretch out along the sofa. The bastard had finished his work an hour ago and had taken advantage of Obi-Wan’s distraction to steal his glass. 

“It’s a disappointed face,” Obi-Wan corrected. 

“You drew tears.” 

“He cited a _Wikipedia article.”_

“And I'm sure he’ll never make that mistake again,” Rex said, sounding terribly fond in a way that Obi-Wan was too exhausted to parse. “I think it’s time for you to go to bed. Come on.” 

He blinked at the hand Rex held out before taking it, marveling at how easily Rex pulled him to his feet. “Oh,” he said stupidly. 

“Go away,” Cody said. “Some of us are trying to sleep.” 

“I should get him things,” Obi-Wan said, trying to marshal his thoughts. “Blanket. Pillow.” 

“I’ll get that.” Rex gently steered Obi-Wan to his room. “I left some water and aspirin for you. You’re going to need it.” 

“I never get a hangover.” 

“Uh-huh,” Rex said, sounding extremely unimpressed. “Go to sleep.” 

Obi-Wan caught Rex’s arm. “Thank you for dinner, and for being here. It’s nice.” 

Rex’s expression softened. “You’re welcome.” Cody made an exasperated noise, and Rex turned to glare over his shoulder. “I've got to deal with him. You go sleep.” 

“All right,” Obi-Wan agreed, and let Rex gently push him in the direction of his bed. 

He drank the glass of water Rex left for him before crawling under the comforter, smiling into his pillow as he fell asleep. 

* * *

It was entirely too early to be awake given the holiday break had just begun, but Obi-Wan had promised, and Rex was kind enough to have a cup of tea waiting for him. 

“Cody and Ahsoka are meeting us at the docks,” Rex said. He pulled a bottle of sunscreen from the packed beach bag, tossing it to Obi-Wan. “Put it on.” 

He caught it. “Really?” 

Rex didn’t look up from where he was deciding which books to bring. “I'm pretty sure you get sunburn from the florescent lights in your office.” 

Considering Rex wasn’t exactly wrong, he put on the sunscreen, but not before heaving an aggrieved sigh that made Rex cut him an amused look. 

“Come on,” he said once Obi-Wan had finished his tea. “We don’t want to be late.” 

Obi-Wan shouldered the bag while Rex retrieved his coat from the chest, folding it over his arm. 

“Perhaps I should carry your coat on the ferry,” Obi-Wan said as they went down the stairs. “After all, between the two of us I have better situational awareness.” 

“You going to be like this all day?” 

“No, just until we meet up with your brothers. They can take over.” 

He was expecting the friendly shove, and he swayed with it, letting the motion carry him back to Rex’s side. 

This early the ferry was almost entirely empty, and so they sat out on the deck. The sky was bright and clear, the sort of day that was made for lounging on the beach, although he still maintained the temperature didn’t yet warrant it. He had, unsurprisingly, been overruled. 

The Te Wiatas were insistent, and if Cody and Rex were stubborn bastards, all the brothers banded together were even worse, but even they had nothing on Ahsoka, who looked him in the eye and said, mildly threatening, “If you don’t come, you’ll make Rex sad, and you don’t want that, do you?” 

And since Obi-Wan didn’t want that, here he was, awake much too early and squinting through the bright light to where Cody and Ahsoka were waiting for them at the car. Wordlessly, Cody passed over coffee for Rex and tea for him as Ahsoka propped her bare feet out the open window. 

She looked at them over the rim of her completely ostentatious aviators and said, “We’re wasting daylight. Let’s go.” 

Rex lightly slapped her foot on his way past before folding himself into the backseat. When Obi-Wan followed, Rex set his coat between them before pulling out a paperback with a cracked spine and settled in for the drive. 

He was always like that, Cody had confided. On any given family trip, Rex would wedge himself between the twins and Kix, who was their favorite victim, and lose himself in a book. That didn’t change when he enlisted. As Ahsoka told it, she had never met someone who could project so much disappointment at privates while never once looking up from the page. 

Obi-Wan tried to picture it: a young Rex, gawkish and not yet grown into his limbs, head bowed over a book as he pretended to ignore everyone around him. It was terribly endearing. 

Ahsoka’s mobile chimed, and she said, “So apparently Kix convinced his boyfriend to come.” 

The wind kept blowing his fringe into his eyes, and Obi-Wan would have asked Ahsoka to roll up the window if Rex hadn’t leaned forward to tap on her shoulder. One significant look from him and she sighed as she pulled her feet back in and hit the switch. 

“How does he have a boyfriend?” she continued. “He’s a baby. Babies don’t date.” 

Rex turned a page. “If you think that’s bad, wait until Boba gets a girl or boyfriend.” 

“Don’t say that,” she says darkly, the aviators sliding down her nose so she could glare at Rex. “He won’t. We made a deal.” 

Cody snorted. “Deals with eight year olds are not legally binding.” 

“This one is. We pinky promised.” 

“Those are sacrosanct,” Obi-Wan said. 

“ _Thank you.”_

“Don’t encourage her,” said Rex, finally glancing up from his book to give Obi-Wan a pointed look. 

“Like I need encouragement,” Ahsoka said, grinning at the twin sighs that came from Cody and Rex, who pointedly turned his attention back to the book. 

Obi-Wan had finished his tea by the time Cody said, “We’re almost here.” 

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said as got his first good view of the shore and the stretch of the beach, the black sand almost glittering under the sun. 

He had seen pictures, of course, and he had thought to take a day trip out over the holidays when he first moved here, but he had been busy preparing his lectures and unpacking the flat, and like many of his good intentions, he just didn’t have the time. 

“It’s lovely,” he said, taking in the way the light lingered along the sand, making it look soft and welcoming. 

“You’ve never been?” Rex asked, abandoning his book and turning an accusing look on Cody. “You never brought him?” 

“You try prying him out of his office,” Cody retorted. “He has an aversion to nature and fresh air.” 

“I have no such thing,” Obi-Wan said, which only earned him three identical flat stares. “I never got around to making a trip. I’ve been busy.” 

“You should have kept that to yourself,” said Ahsoka. “Rex is never going to leave you alone now.” 

Rex glared at her, but did not, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but notice, refute the statement. 

“You’ll like it,” Rex said. “It’s even better down on the water.” 

By the time Cody parked the car, the day had grown warmer, and Obi-Wan shed his sweater as they made their way to the beach proper and the cove thereon. Generations of Te Wiatas, Rex explained, had been going there to swim for longer than Rex had been alive. It was, perhaps, the safest place for them outside of the sea. 

As they rounded the last outcropping to step onto the cove, Obi-Wan felt the threshold shift under his feet, sending him stumbling. The land remembered the Te Wiatas. It knew them and it loved them in as much as the land could know or love anyone. 

“Give it a minute,” Ahsoka said quietly, her hand around his arm to steady him. “It just needs to recognize you.” 

It eased, like she said, and Obi-Wan was looking out over the Te Wiata clan as they gathered into a tight knot, embracing and laughing. 

“It’s rare to get a threshold as strong as this,” she continued. “I’ve never anything like it before, and I’m very good at growing them. But this is—” 

“It’s their home,” he said. 

“Yes,” she answered, “it is.” 

“You all right?” Rex asked. 

“We’re fine,” Ahsoka answered, and then before Rex could do more than frown, “Anahera, over here!” 

“I see you finally made it,” Anahera said, carving a straight path to them and leaving Rex with a short window to school his resigned expression into something more appropriate. 

She was shorter than both her sons with _moko_ curling along her chin and her long hair spilling down her back in loose waves. She was deceptively strong for her height, something Obi-Wan was reminded of as she impatiently and forcefully pulled down first Cody and then Rex to kiss their cheeks. 

“Blame your other son,” said Cody. “He and Obi-Wan were late.” 

Rex scowled. “We were on time. You just drive slow.” 

“Like a grandma,” Ahsoka agreed, hand slipping from Obi-Wan’s arm as she stepped forward to receive her own greeting. “Well, not my grandmother. She took speed limits as a challenge.” 

“A quality I hear you’ve inherited,” Anahera said. 

Ahsoka grinned at Rex. “It’s saved our lives a couple times.” 

“It really hasn’t,” Rex answered. 

“Obi-Wan, it’s so good to see you again,” Anahera said over the friendly bickering, and then, before he could respond, she grasped him by the shoulders, pulling him in and down so she could press her lips to his forehead, a mother’s kiss. 

“Oh, yes, hello,” he said, awkwardly patting her on the back and ignoring Cody’s smirk. “It’s nice to see you as well.” 

“I'm glad they convinced you to come,” she said, releasing him. “I would have invited you last year, but you understand.” 

“I do,” he said. 

Over her shoulder she said, “Boba, come say hello to your brothers.” 

From where he was hovering, Boba slouched over in the way of disaffected teenagers everywhere. Obi-Wan would have been impressed by the sheer amount of sullenness Boba was projecting if he didn’t vividly remember Anakin at the same age. 

“I see them all the time,” Boba said. 

“ _I_ don’t get to see you,” said Ahsoka, hooking her arm around his neck and tugging him close. “How’ve you been, kid?” 

He scowled and struggled against the hold in a way that was more for show than a genuine escape attempt. “Fine.” 

“I heard you got the winning goal in your last game,” said Rex. There was a photo of Boba in his rugby kit on the refrigerator, hanging next to the photo of Anakin. 

Boba shrugged. “We did all right.” 

“Undefeated is only all right now?” said Cody, and scrubbed an affectionate hand through Boba’s hair. 

“Quit it,” Boba whined, trying to twist out of reach. “Go bother Kix and his terrible boyfriend.” 

“Jesse is not terrible,” Anahera said. When Cody raised his eyebrows, she added, “He’s a sweet kid. Be nice.” 

“I'm always nice,” Cody answered. 

Her incredulous look, Obi-Wan noticed, was mirrored by Rex. 

“Speaking of boyfriends,” said Ahsoka, tugging Boba even closer, “you’re not seeing anyone, right?” 

“What? _No,_ ” he said, which would have been more convincing if he didn’t take after Rex; the tips of his ears were bright red. 

“We made a deal,” Ahsoka said, betrayed. “You will never date.” 

“It’s not the kid in your maths class, is it?” Cody said. “The one you’re always complaining about?” 

“Oh my god,” Boba said, twisting away. 

“So it is that kid,” said Rex. 

Obi-Wan hid his smile as Boba flushed a blotchy red and hissed, “Shut up.” 

“But you pinky promised me,” Ahsoka said. “How could you go back on that?” 

Boba shot a desperate look to Anahera, who said, “That’s enough. Stop teasing your brother and go help your father with the fire pit. You know how his back bothers him these days. I'm going to introduce Obi-Wan to the rest of the family. 

“I was going to do that,” Rex said quickly. 

“No need.” She threaded her arm through Obi-Wan’s, who knew better than to get in the middle of that argument. “Now go before your dad hurts himself again.” 

“I’ll find you later,” Obi-Wan said. 

Boba had already taken off to escape his brothers with Ahsoka right on his heels. Cody sighed when Rex hesitated, muttering something unkind under his breath as he planted a hand between Rex’s shoulder blades and shoved him along. 

Anahera watched them with a fond smile. “Those boys, always looking after everyone.” 

“I’ve noticed,” said Obi-Wan. 

“I haven’t had a chance to thank you,” she said as they picked a leisurely path towards the rest of the family, “for what you did for Rex.” 

“You don’t have to,” he said, although he knew it was useless; the Te Wiatas paid their debts. 

“I do. He’s my son.” She was quiet for a moment before saying, “It’s been some time since anyone tried to steal our coats. It hasn’t happened in my lifetime.” 

“You’re worried,” Obi-Wan said. 

She turned on him a flat look, the same one Cody and Rex inherited, and said, “Of course I am. We’ve made sure everyone is aware of the consequences of trying to trap us. The fact that someone would even try,” she broke off with a frown. “Do you know who this woman was?” 

“No,” he said, and then because this was Rex’s mother, added, “I think I’ve seen her at the university, sitting in the back of my classes, but I can’t be sure.” 

“This needs looking into,” she said, a sharp edge to her voice before she abruptly softened. She slid him a sly look. “Tell me, is my son being a good flatmate? Picking up after himself? Keeping up with the chores?” 

“Yes, he’s very considerate.” He cleared his throat. “It’s good to have him there.” 

Anahera looked pleased. “He was always better than his brothers when it came to helping out around the house. You do not want to know how many dirty plates I found under Echo’s bed.” She squeezed her arm, and said, “My sister and her kids are here. I don’t think you’ve met them yet.” 

It was a parade of names and faces after that: Wolffe and his trio of tall and mildly terrifying sisters; Waxer and Boil and their daughter, who waved from where she hung under Boil’s arm; Anahera’s younger sister, watching as Tup and Dogma chased a pack of children down the sand; Kix and his boyfriend Jesse, a sweet faced kid who grinned at everyone he met; Bly and Aayla, who was tall and beautiful and gave Obi-Wan a sympathetic look; and so many others that he had to admit defeat in trying to keep any of it straight. 

“I know that look,” said Jango when Anahera deposited him back before going to talk to her sisters. “It took me months to learn everyone’s names. I'm still not entirely clear on some of the outlying cousins. Just wait until you meet the rest.” 

“This isn’t all of them?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“Not even close.” The _moko_ covering his lower face lent a grave edge to everything he said. “One of Anahera’s sisters and her family isn’t here, and there’s a few cousins that live on the south island.” 

Most of the family had gathered by the water, coats in hand. Echo had removed his prosthetics, stacking them neatly on a blanket. Fives and Cody helped him down to where Ahsoka and Boba were waiting. 

Jango looked at Rex, and said, “Your mother is waiting for you.” 

“There’s still more to set up,” Rex said. 

“We can handle it.” 

“Aayla will watch out for your boy,” said Bly, slinging an around Rex’s shoulders. “It’s been ages since we’ve swam together.” 

“Do have fun,” Obi-Wan said, smiling at Rex’s disgruntled expression as Bly dragged him down to the water. He glanced at Jango. “You’re not a selkie?” 

“No, not me,” he said, eyes on his family. “They take after their mother. Watch.” 

Obi-Wan knew what Rex looked like, the shape of his shoulders and the solid line of his body, familiar from all the times they bumped elbows and hips as they moved about each other in the flat. In the morning, he knew how to step around Rex to get to the kettle and when to start the coffee brewing so it would be ready as Rex plated their breakfast. He knew Rex had no patience for folding his fresh laundry and that he liked his coffee with an extra spoonful of coffee, although he refused to admit it. He knew the mechanics of living with Rex, the give and take of sharing space, but now, as Rex slid into his coat, it was if he had been blind. 

There wasn’t a point where he could see the change happen, no moment where Rex turned strange and unknown. There was just Rex with dark fur and a mane the color of his hair, whose books were mixed in with his and who kept his coat in the chest Obi-Wan’s twice great-aunt carved for the woman she loved, looking at him in the same soft way Rex did every morning. 

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said quietly. 

“Yeah,” said Jango, “I know.” 

* * *

The Fair Folk took what they wanted, heartache and children and the taste of sorrow from the tongue. They gave back the truth, if it suited them. 

But this was another truth: they could not take what was not freely given. 

“My life,” Obi-Wan told the Count and his bright, hungry eyes. “I’ll give you my life.” 

* * *

There wasn’t much left to set up besides some chairs and umbrellas and a row of colorful beach towels neatly laid out. Obi-Wan was perhaps less helpful that he could have been, as his attention kept drifting back towards the ocean and the seals. In the water it was nearly impossible to tell them apart. They moved too quick, darting under the waves only to surface yards out, dark heads identical under the blue sky. He couldn’t see Rex. 

“Here” said Aayla, passing him a beer before stretching out on a towel. “Enjoy the quiet while you can. We have about twenty minutes before we’re missed.” 

“More like ten,” said Boil. “You know how they get.” 

“That sounds ominous,” he said, settling on the towel next to Aayla and pulling a book from his bag. He had meant to bring along research for his next paper, but Rex had firmly vetoed that, instead choosing for him a paperback with a phoenix on the cover. 

“They’re going to make us go swimming,” Boil answered. Unlike Aayla, who was comfortably sunning herself, he kept his gaze trained on where the seal pups were gently bobbing close to shore. 

“It must be too cold for that.” 

“Try telling them that,” said Aayla. 

“It’s not so bad,” Jesse said cheerfully, digging his feet into the sand. “Me and Kix go swimming all the time. After the first five minutes you don’t even feel it anymore.” 

Behind them, ensconced in a chair with a beer in one hand and the paper in the other, Jango said, “Some of us are old enough we feel the cold now.” 

Jesse jumped a little. “I want you to know we’re careful, sir. I always make sure there’s no one around to see, and Kix is—” 

“Relax,” Jango said, glancing at Jesse over the top of the newspaper. “Kix likes you. You’ve earned some good will.” 

Jesse flushed, clearly pleased. Ah, Obi-Wan thought as he hid a smile, young love. 

He settled in with his book, the sun warm along his shoulders. They had taken holidays on the shore, his and Anakin’s small family. Anakin, unlike the rest of them, never burned, instead turning brown as a nut, hair streaked from the sun and salt. When Qui-Gon fell ill, they stopped going. That first summer without him, Shmi had packed them into the car and said, “We can grieve there just as well as here and I'm so damned sick of this house.” 

When it was just him and Anakin, Obi-Wan had driven them to the seaside as Anakin slept in the back, long legs folded awkwardly to fit along the seat. He shook Anakin awake when they arrived, and together they walked down to the shore and along the water’s edge, shoes and socks off and their pants rolled above the ankles. The water was so cold it stung. 

“I hate this place,” Anakin said, the first words he spoken all day. 

“No, you don’t,” Obi-Wan said, which was the wrong thing as Anakin glared and lengthened his stride to pull away. Every since the funeral, Obi-Wan could do nothing right. He caught Anakin by the elbow, gentle. “I didn’t mean it that way.” 

Anakin twitched away. “Why are we even here?” 

Because Anakin was in pain and Obi-Wan understood Shmi now; he couldn’t bear to stare at those same walls for another day. 

“I needed to get out,” he said, “and I didn’t know where else to go.” 

“You could’ve literally picked anywhere,” Anakin said, scowling out at the water and looking so young it broke Obi-Wan’s heart. 

Careful, he said, “It’s bad now, but it won’t be like this forever.” 

Anakin’s jaw was stiff and tight. “I just want them back.” 

“I know.” He barely touched Anakin’s shoulder before Anakin was folding into him, breaths short and hot against his neck as Obi-Wan held him tight. “I want them back, too.” 

That was nearly ten years ago now, and as familiar as Obi-Wan was to loss, it had yet to grow easier to bear. 

“Oh, for—Numa!” Boil called, startling Obi-Wan. “Would you at least wait for your dad?” 

A seal pup was clambering clumsily up the beach towards them as Waxer, Obi-Wan assumed, followed leisurely behind. Numa was all large eyes and oversized flippers she kept tripping over. Sand clung to her fur, and before Boil cold reach her she tumbled forward, letting out an indignant squeak. 

“Hold on, I got you,” Boil said, crouching down to right her. He gently brushed the sand from her muzzle. “I guess you want me to come swimming?” 

Numa squeaked again, turning to race back to the water. She would have tripped once more if Waxer hadn’t been there to right her. Boil shared a fond look with him before all three went back down to the sea. 

“Oh, good,” Aayla said. “Here come more.” 

A trio made their way towards them, pushed up on their flippers and moving faster than Obi-Wan expected. Aayla, arms folded under her head, said, “Absolutely not, Bly.” 

The seal in front, two patches of light colored fur under his eyes, made a forlorn noise. The smallest of the three went straight for Jesse, who grinned, and held out a hand for the seal to affectionately bump. 

“Rex?” he said to the third seal, whose mane was blonde. He received an unimpressed look in return, so utterly Rex that Obi-Wan laughed a little as he set his book aside. 

“You know the rule,” Aayla continued as Bly collapsed onto the sand to gently bump her hand. “If it’s not twenty-five I'm not going in the water.” She lifted her head just enough to give Obi-Wan a cheerful smile. “But this is Obi-Wan’s first swim. You should make sure he gets the full experience.” 

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Obi-Wan said, but it was too late; Bly had turned to regard him with deep, dark eyes, distracting him from how close Rex had got. He barely kept from jumping when Rex brushed Obi-Wan’s shoulder with his muzzle, the same way he would knock his knuckles into Obi-Wan’s arm when he was human. 

Obi-Wan had known, objectively, that Rex in his seal skin was large and impressive, but it hadn’t prepared him for the reality of it, of Rex looming over where he sat. Standing, he was certain Rex would easily reach his chest. If Obi-Wan was brave enough he only had to reach out to feel the muscle under Rex’s short fur. 

“Come on,” said Jesse, already up and following Kix back to the water, “it’s fun. I promise.” 

“They won’t give up, you know,” said Aayla. 

“She’s right,” Jango added. “You should surrender now with what dignity you have.” 

Rex was waiting patiently as if it was just the two of them in the kitchen and Obi-Wan couldn’t decide what he wanted for dinner, but Obi-Wan knew him, as much as he knew anyone, and he recognized when Rex wanted something but refused to admit it. 

“Well, if you’re not going to give up,” Obi-Wan said, and stripped off his shirt so he was just in his swim trunks, “I guess I have no choice but to gracefully give in.” 

Bly made a low noise, and Aayla said, “Yes, I get it now.” When Obi-Wan looked to her, she had already settled comfortably back again, one hand in Bly’s mane. “Have fun.” 

Rex was hardly subtle as he herded Obi-Wan to the water, and Obi-Wan would have protested if he hadn’t accepted that this was just something Rex did. Rex did the same for his brothers and even Ahsoka, one arm around her shoulders when they walked along the street, as if she would wander into traffic without him there. Ahsoka always rolled her eyes and made a show of allowing Rex this one indulgence, but she matched her steps to his. Obi-Wan had no opinion of it, one way or another, although if pressed he supposed he enjoyed it, this sign of Rex’s affection. 

When they reached the edge, the waves breaking just before his toes, Obi-Wan said, “I want you to know this is going to be terrible and you should appreciate the fact I’m doing it anyway.” 

From the left, Jesse gave a wild whoop and leapt into the sea, Kix charging in right behind him. To be that young again, Obi-Wan thought, and grimly stepped forward and let the water lap over his feet. Even prepared for the cold as he was, it was still a shock, and he would have jumped backwards if Rex weren’t pointedly blocking his escape attempt. 

Several seals surfaced and watched with unabashed interest, and behind him Rex made a low noise that Obi-Wan was certain was laughter. Gritting his teeth, he waded in until it was up to his knees. 

“Give me a moment,” he said as Rex circled to his front, almost as if he was blocking Obi-Wan from his family’s curious stares. “Not all of us come with our own insulation.” 

Rex snorted, gaze tracking to Obi-Wan’s left. Before Obi-Wan even had a chance to look over his shoulder, something large and solid hit him squarely in the knees, sending him crashing under the waves. He came up sputtering, a shiver working its way through his bones, to find another seal with a dark mane looking down at him. 

If the seal’s amused expression didn’t make it obvious who it was, the scar curving around his left eye did. 

“Cody,” Obi-Wan said, pushing his wet fringe back from his face. “You bastard.” 

Cody’s expression didn’t change as he knocked a flipper against Obi-Wan’s knee before diving in, moving quick and sleek underwater before Obi-Wan lost sight of him amongst his cousins. The worst part, though, was that after the initial shock he was acclimating faster to the temperature than he might have otherwise. 

“Shall we?” he said to Rex, and followed Cody into the sea. 

He didn’t go out far, just past where the sand sloped down far enough his feet could no longer touch the bottom. The seals circled him, playful, and this close he could begin to make out the differences. The women’s fur was lighter in color, and one, a burnished amber, swam in close as if to check on him before affectionately knocking into Rex and heading to shore. That must have been Anahera; she settled onto the sand, regal, where she could watch over them all. 

The twins were easier to spot. Even in his seal skin, Echo was still missing his right two flippers, and he moved slower compared to his brothers. Fives stayed close to his side, darting away only as long as it took to send a small wave into Obi-Wan’s face with a flick of his tail. Kix remained with Jesse, who was receiving the same treatment as him, and Boba, smaller than his brothers with fur that had yet to darken with adulthood, bobbed sullenly a few yards away before Fives careened into him, sending them both tumbling out of sight. 

There were others, Wolffe still with his scar and blind in one eye, chased by one of his sisters. Bly, unable to convince Aayla to join him, had returned to swim with his own siblings. A few of the other teenagers, Tup maybe and possibly Dogma, had joined Boba, and the trio were heading off towards deeper water before a warning bark from Anahera had them guiltily drifting back to shore. 

And through it all was Rex, who stayed so close that Obi-Wan wouldn’t even need to extend his arm to brush up against him. He tread water, careful, and didn’t reach out. 

“Where’s Ahsoka?” he asked. The last he’d seen of her she had been standing next to Boba as the family put on their coats. 

Rex swam out further, looking back to make sure Obi-Wan was following, and then he dived. Sighing, Obi-Wan followed, blinking his eyes open under the water. He really should have thought to bring a swim mask. 

Rex swam towards a dark shape. It was larger than him but moved in the same manner, quick and graceful. Obi-Wan could make out a long tail and sharp fins but little else. It curved right, Rex to the left, the two spiraling around each other in a movement so seamless that it must have been bred from familiarity, like a complicated handshake. 

Obi-Wan surfaced, Rex following after a moment. “Well,” he said, “I suppose she did say she was selkie adjacent.” 

He stayed out in the water for nearly an hour, chaperoned by Ahsoka underneath and the Te Wiatas above, who swam in slow, easy loops around him. He would have lingered even longer if the shivering hadn’t started. When he swam towards the shore, Rex made a small, questioning noise as he kept pace. 

“I'm a bit chilled,” he answered. At Rex’ disbelieving look, he added, “Not all of us have a layer of subcutaneous fat to keep us warm.” Rex gently bumped him in reprimand. He was doing that a lot, being careful with Obi-Wan, as if he was aware of their stark differences now. 

When Obi-Wan was only hip deep in the water, Rex made to clamber after him. “No, you should stay,” he said, resisting the urge to touch Rex’s shoulder. He wouldn’t have hesitated if Rex was human, but he didn’t know the rules when Rex was in his seal skin. “Go be with your family. I'll only be reading anyway.” 

Either he was getting better at deciphering Rex’s expression as a seal or Rex was making more of an effort, but he could see Rex’s hesitance, and this time he reached out and gently shoved Rex back to where Cody was watching them. “Go on,” he said. “I’ll be right over there.” 

Rex sighed, but ducked his head once before turning towards his brother. Obi-Wan made his way over to Aayla, who tossed him a towel. “Thank you,” he said, and scrubbed his hair before wrapping it around his shoulders. 

“They’re excited about a first swim,” Aayla said as Obi-Wan took a seat. “It’s important to them.” 

“I don’t suppose pointing out we’re not selkies would make a difference?” he asked. The day had grown warm, and he forewent his shirt in favor of lying in the sun. 

“I'm afraid not.” She shifted onto her back, sunglasses firmly in place. “If it helps, in about a year they’ll stop insisting you go in immediately.” 

“Oh, only a year,” he said, and Aayla tilted a smile in his direction. 

Towel and bag arranged as makeshift pillow, Obi-Wan leaned back and smoothed down the pages of the book. It was an enjoyable if mindless read meant for the beach, and he was halfway through the third chapter when, with a heavy sigh, Rex came to a rest beside him. Obi-Wan blinked in surprise; Rex was hardly clumsy in his seal skin, but he moved slower on land. It spoke of his skills that Obi-Wan hadn’t noticed his approach. 

“Everything all right?” he asked. Most of the Te Wiatas had migrated back onto the beach, sunning themselves in various groups. He could see Boil leaning against Waxer with Numa stretched across his lap. 

There was an odd determination on Rex’s face as he carefully and deliberately laid his head just above Obi-Wan’s knee, warm breath ghosting over his skin. Obi-Wan stilled, not even daring to look to Aayla for clarification on what was happening. 

“Rex?” he said quietly, but of course Rex couldn’t answer in this form, at least not in a way that Obi-Wan could understand. Instead Rex turned dark, serious eyes on him, and he wished desperately he knew what he meant. 

“Of course this is where you ended up,” Jango said, and Obi-Wan looked up at him while Rex made a low noise and stayed where he was. “He’s been like this since he was a kid.” 

“Been like what?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“He tires himself out with swimming and then finds someone to sleep on.” Rex snorted, and Jango smiled, fond. “Cody was his favorite. He used to pass out on his back until Cody lost patience and threw him off. I have pictures of it. Remind me to show you next time you’re over.” 

Rex’s head jerked up, and seal or not, Obi-Wan recognized that specific look of embarrassed horror parents invoked. Rex made a rough, urgent noise, and Obi-Wan stifled the urge to laugh. 

“What was that, kid?” Jango said. “I didn’t catch it.” 

Father and son stared at each for a long moment. Rex broke first, grumbling as he pointedly laid his head back down. 

“Uh-huh, that’s what I thought,” Jango said. “You need anything? You’re going to be stuck here for awhile.” 

“I'm fine, thank you,” Obi-Wan said. 

“Just kick him off if you need to,” Jango said before heading to the fire pit. 

Rex’s eyes were closed, but Obi-Wan could feel how stiff he was holding himself. This was, he told himself, no different than if they were sitting on the sofa together, ankles knocking together as they put on a film neither of them would end up watching, and it was that thought that had him sliding a hand through the thicker fur of Rex’s mane, letting it prickle along his palm. It was just like placing a hand on Rex’s back to guide him out of the way when Obi-Wan needed to use the bathroom sink. 

Under his touch, Rex relaxed with a soft sigh. 

“They’re all clingy bastards,” Aayla said. 

Before Rex could tense up again, Obi-Wan said, “I don’t mind.” 

He turned the page of his book and kept his hand buried in Rex’s mane. 

* * *

There was a touch to his shoulder, and Obi-Wan blinked awake, confused. His book was lying where it dropped from his hand and Rex’s comforting weight was gone from his leg. When he looked for him, Rex said, “Hey.” 

“Oh,” said Obi-Wan, turning to find Rex sitting beside him, “you’re back.” 

Rex’s eyebrows rose. “I didn’t go anywhere.” 

“No, of course not. I only meant—” 

Rex took pity on him and said, “It takes some getting used to.” 

Obi-Wan rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the pull in the muscles; he was far too old to be sleeping on the beach like a drunken teenager, which he had perhaps done once or twice when he was said drunken teenager. 

Rex made a quiet noise, and when Obi-Wan glanced over, said, “You have more freckles.” 

“It’s the combination of the sun and my fair British genes.” He smiled, rueful. It would be days before they faded, and that was only if he stayed out of the sun. “I'm lucky I didn’t burn.” 

Wordlessly, Rex passed over his shirt and sweater, and Obi-Wan pulled them on, grateful. It was late afternoon and the wind had kicked up. 

“Food’s ready, if you’re hungry,” Rex said, standing and holding out a hand. 

“You should have woken me.” He let Rex pull him upright. “I would have helped.” 

Rex placed a hand between the wings of Obi-Wan’s shoulder blades to steer him towards the fire pit. “They’ve been doing this for years. We’d just be in the way.” 

Like Rex, the Te Wiatas had shed their coats, sitting either by the fire or clustered around the makeshift serving table, piling their plates high. 

“Go have a seat,” Rex said. “I’ll get us something.” 

There was no use arguing given how stubborn Rex was, and so Obi-Wan found space on an empty beach towel. He was unsurprised when Ahsoka sat next to him, elbows on her knees and chin propped on her fist. 

“Have a good nap?” she asked, and her innocent tone would be more believable if she wasn’t grinning. 

“It was very nice, yes,” he answered. 

“You did look comfortable.” 

Before she could no doubt waggle her eyebrows, Obi-Wan said, “Forgive the rudeness, but what are you?” 

“You don’t know? I thought this was your specialty, fae stories and all that.” 

“My focus is more on European fae literary tradition,” he said, smiling at the face she made. “Should I guess?” 

“Yeah, definitely. I want to see how long it takes you to figure it out.” 

“Mermaid,” he said, just to see the face she made. “Siren?” 

“No.” 

“Oh, I know. Naiad.” 

“Getting warmer.” She glanced up as Rex returned, three plates balanced carefully along his arm. 

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said, accepting the one Rex passed him. 

“Where’s mine?” Ahsoka asked. 

“You can get your own,” Rex answered, folding himself down next to Obi-Wan. Their shoulders brushed together. 

“Aw, come on, Rex. I’m tired. I didn’t get to nap like you.” 

Rex’s ears burned red, but he handed over the other plate with a glare that softened at the smile Ahsoka gave him. 

The meal was a raucous affair, which was to be expected from the Te Wiatas. There were a dozen overlapping conversations happening around the fire. He found himself pulled into one with Jango and Anahera when she pushed another plate into his hands, and then he was brought in as a mediator for Cody and Bly’s cheerful argument. 

It was easy to picture Anakin in the midst of it all, sprawled between Echo and Fives, the three of them no doubt becoming quick co-conspirators in some wild plot. 

The thought ached, like an old bruise Obi-Wan couldn’t stop pressing on. But that was part of the deal, wasn’t it? The Fair Folk feasted on grief. 

“Hey,” Rex said, soft. 

“Hello,” he answered, and summoned a smile. 

Rex was warm from the fire, and the image of leaning over and pressing a kiss to his shoulder was so strong that for a moment Obi-Wan nearly felt the heat of Rex’s skin against his mouth. 

“You sure you’re all right?” Rex asked when Obi-Wan jerked backed, blinking rapidly. 

“Yes,” he said, and then, firmly, “Yes, I'm fine.” 

Rex didn’t looked convinced, but Ahsoka demanded that Obi-Wan make another guess, and that led to him and Cody arguing over whether rusalki were found strictly in Russia or if there was any validity to the sightings in the Netherlands. 

By the time the sun had just begun to set, the party was breaking up. It was a communal effort of packing up all the supplies before those with young children, yawning and fighting to stay awake, made their goodbyes, followed by those with a longer drive ahead of them. 

Apparently, he and Rex were part of the second group, because Cody said, “We should go before you miss the last ferry. Got everything?” 

“Yup,” said Ahsoka, and shoved several bags into Rex’s arms. Her aviators were hooked in the collar of her shirt. “Let’s go.” 

Anahera kissed her children goodbye, and Obi-Wan was expecting it when she placed several containers of leftovers in his hands and hugged him tight, saying, “You’re always welcome here.” 

“Don’t be a stranger, kid,” Jango added with a friendly thump to his shoulder. 

It was a quiet walk back to the car and a quieter drive into Auckland. Ahsoka dozed in the front seat and Cody kept the radio low, his toneless humming oddly soothing. 

At the dock, Rex was a few steps ahead when Cody caught his arm. “Be careful with him,” he said. 

Head soft with sleep, Obi-Wan said, unthinking, “Of course I will,” which seemed to be the right thing as Cody nodded in approval. 

The ferry was nearly empty, the bus from the terminal into town even more so, and by the time Rex unlocked the door to their flat, Obi-Wan wanted nothing more than to fall into bed. But, as had become tradition, he waited patiently as Rex placed his coat in the chest before locking it for the night. He slept easier, knowing it was safe. 

“Thanks for coming today,” Rex said, something awkward hovering along the edges of the words. “I'm sorry about, uh, falling asleep on you.” 

“Oh,” said Obi-Wan. It wasn’t just Rex’s ears that were flushed red now. “I didn’t mind.” For just a moment, he thought about leaning in and pressing his mouth to the soft skin under Rex’s jaw, sweet and gentle. Aware of Rex staring at him, he said, “I think I’ll head to bed. It was a good day, but a long one.” 

“Yeah,” said Rex. “It was.” 

Obi-Wan closed his bedroom door behind him, and said quietly but with feeling, “ _Shit_.” 

* * *

The Count said, “Only one of us can make use of your life. What else will you give?” 

It was hope, born of desperation and love, that made him say, “What do you want?” 

It was a foolish question because the answer, of course, was everything. 

* * *

It had happened without him noticing, the space he carved for Rex, the easy way they came together, how much he wanted to touch Rex now that Obi-Wan knew all of him. It had been the same with Satine. They argued and bickered, and one day, as their recreational debate wound down, he had reached out and brushed a bit of stray hair away from her face before he could talk himself out of it. 

“Well,” Satine had said, eyebrow arched high, “finally caught on then, have you?” 

She still had to make the first move, in the end, and Anakin had laughed at Obi-Wan’s surprise. 

“How did you not see this coming?” Anakin said. “I will never understand how you’re so terrible at feelings.” 

And Obi-Wan couldn’t deny it, not when it was Satine who saw all the ways they couldn’t fit themselves together, and firmly but not unkindly ended it. 

Nothing changed between him and Rex. Rex cooked and Obi-Wan did the washing up, every second Sunday of the month they cleaned the bathroom, and they still knocked shoulders and knees and ankles when they sat on the couch, ignoring the television in favor of the books they pulled from the shelf. Only now Obi-Wan caught himself staring at the bare skin of Rex’s wrist or the line of his shoulders and thinking how simple it would be to just reach out and touch, if he wanted to. 

He was no stranger to desire, the way it coiled low and warm at the base of his spine, but it was the longing that took him by surprise. He hadn’t wanted anyone like this since Satine and certainly not since he came to New Zealand. It was a relief to find he still could. The Fair Folk hadn’t taken that from him. 

But the problem for longing was that it was just that, and for anything to come of it action was required, and Obi-Wan was painfully aware of what brought Rex into his life. There were old laws and the Te Wiatas paid their debts. He couldn’t ask for more, not when he knew well the price that carried. 

“All right, what is it?” Rex asked, back to him as he washed vegetables at the sink. “That’s the third time you’ve sighed in the last five minutes.” 

“It’s this article,” Obi-Wan said, belatedly turning his gaze back to the journal instead of staring at the dip of Rex’s spine. “It’s poorly argued.” 

“You’re already writing your rebuttal in your head, aren’t you?” Rex glanced over his shoulder, soft and fond. 

“I'm drafting it.” Obi-Wan laid his hands flat against the table. He could picture it so clearly, pressing himself against Rex’s back and hooking his chin over Rex’s shoulder to watch him peel the potatoes, as if he done it a thousand times. 

There was a perfunctory knock before Ahsoka entered, slipping her jacket off and hanging it on the hook next to Obi-Wan’s. The first time she had noticed the distinct lack of Rex’s coat mixed in with Obi-Wan’s sweaters, she had glanced at the chest before turning a significant look on them both before hitching herself up on the counter and demanding that Rex feed her. 

“Did you do any work on this?” she asked, nodding at the doorframe and the faint charms etched into it. 

“No,” Obi-Wan answered, looking to Rex, who shook his head. “Why?” 

“Your threshold is stronger. I could feel it, this time.” 

Rex shrugged. “I guess the charms finally took.” 

“Really,” she said slyly. “So nothing’s changed to—” 

Rex threw a potato at her head, and she caught it, barely, with a scowl. 

“Dice those,” Rex said. 

“Why do you make me do the prep work?” she said, hip checking Rex to the side so she could grab the cutting board. “You never make Obi-Wan help.” 

“Obi-Wan pays rent. You sleep on our couch three days a week.” 

She shook her locs behind her shoulder. “I wouldn’t have to if someone hadn’t decided to live on an island just because he saw a han—” 

“The knives are in that drawer,” Rex interrupted. His ears were red and he refused to meet Ahsoka’s gaze. 

“Oh, that’s where they are,” Obi-Wan said. 

Rex looked up from where he was slicing an onion. “You don’t know where the knives are kept?” 

“You moved everything,” he answered. “And you never let me put the dishes away after I do the washing up.” 

“Because apparently you don’t know where they go,” said Rex. 

“Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn’t you say you finally got everything where you wanted and I'm not allowed to ruin it?” 

“Oh my god,” Ahsoka said, typing quickly on her mobile. 

Rex tapped her arm with the flat of the knife. “If you don’t help you don’t get fed.” 

“Give me a minute,” she said. “I just have to update this group text.” 

Obi-Wan and Rex shared an alarmed look. 

“Don’t be like that,” she said, cheerful. “It’s nothing bad.” 

“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is,” Obi-Wan said. 

“Who said I wanted to be reassuring?” She cut the potatoes, scrapping them into the pot, and then said, hesitant, “I submitted my application today.” 

“Good,” said Rex. 

She shrugged. “I won’t get a decision for a couple months, but I figured I could get a degree, maybe do some post-graduate work.” 

“You know that means exams and papers, right?” 

“Wouldn’t be university without them.” She took the carrots Rex passed over. It was quiet but for the sound of chopping. “You’re not going to apply?” 

“No,” Rex answered. “What if I end up in Cody’s class?” 

“You’d kill each other before the end of the term.” 

“We’d kill each other before the first week was out.” And then in the soft voice he used only for the people who meant the most to him, he said, “I'm proud of you.” 

“I know,” Ahsoka said, a quiet hitch to the words. 

Obi-Wan glanced up to see Rex tug her into his side, pressing a kiss to her temple before she shook him off. She punched his shoulder , and said, “Hey, Obi-Wan, does your offer still stand?” 

He cleared his throat. “I’ll put in that good word to the admissions committee, but I hardly think it will be needed.” 

She grabbed another carrot. “I hope so.” 

Rex elbowed her in the side, and Obi-Wan turned back to the article and let them have their moment. 

Later, when night had settled, Ahsoka fell asleep on the couch as was expected. Obi-Wan retrieved the quilt they set aside for just this purpose and tucked it around her. She turned her face into the cushion and didn’t wake. 

In the kitchen, Rex was scrubbing at a pan, and Obi-Wan clicked his tongue. “That’s my job.” 

“I made a mess,” Rex answered, which was blatantly untrue. Rex cleaned as he cooked, and Obi-Wan wondered if his tidiness was inherent to him or something instilled by the military. 

“You can dry,” Obi-Wan said, and shooed him away from the sink. 

He used to do this with Shmi, the two of them tidying up at the end of the day. There had always been something firm about Shmi, unflappable, like the entire world could have crumbled beneath her and she still would have kept her footing through sheer force of will. He had loved her for that steadiness and the sharp edge of her tongue she turned on Qui-Gon more than once. She and Anahera would have got on like a house on fire. 

“Hey,” Rex said. 

Obi-Wan rinsed the pan before handing it over to Rex to dry. “So you’ve decided not to go back to university?” 

Rex’s gaze lingered on him before he let himself be distracted. “I was never really into school. That was always Cody and Kix’s thing. Echo, too.” He placed the pot on the rack to be put away in the morning. Obi-Wan had a vague idea it went in one of the cabinets above the range hood. “Ahsoka thought it was something we would do. We’ve been together a long time. She was with me on every deployment.” 

There were photos of Rex and Ahsoka scatted about the flat, them in uniform and out of it, comfortable in each other’s space. 

“We talked about getting a flat together,” Rex continued, “but then you sort of ruined that.” 

“My apologies,” he said, wry. 

“We would have been at each other’s throats.” He took the handful of utensils Obi-Wan passed over. “It’s hard to remember we don’t have to do everything together.” 

Obi-Wan scrubbed industrially at a pot. “It’s not easy to admit you need your own space.” 

Rex nodded. His cheekbones were lovely in the low light, and Obi-Wan could easily press his lips to one, just for a moment, just to let Rex know he was there. 

“I think we were both surprised to find we wanted different things,” Rex said. 

“That doesn’t change how much you care about each other.” Obi-Wan rinsed the pot and handed it over. 

“It doesn’t.” Rex twisted the towel and said, “We needed a kick in the arse for us to admit it, though.” 

“We’ll be fine,” Anakin had said as they stood in Heathrow, as firm and unflappable as Shmi had always been. 

“Of course we will,” said Obi-Wan, and if it wasn’t a lie then it wasn’t the truth either. Obi-Wan didn’t know what he would be, far from home, but it wouldn’t be fine. 

“Have you decided what you want to do?” he asked. 

Rex shrugged. “I haven’t figured it out yet. I got some money set aside. I’ll keep making rent.” 

“You know I'm not worried about that.” Obi-Wan had been paying it in full before Rex and his coat had come along and complicated matters. “Take your time. There’s no rush.” 

Rex’s gaze fell heavy and warm on him, and Obi-Wan, suds up to his wrists, wondered what Rex saw. 

From the couch Ahsoka snuffled and said, “If you’re done can I get some water? I think something died in my mouth.” 

“This,” Rex said as he reached for a glass, “is why we can’t live together.” 

“Have you seen my mobile?” she added. “I need to update the group text.” 

“Perfectly understandable,” Obi-Wan said, and Rex’s amused smile carried him through the rest of the dishes. 

* * *

Holiday break meant that technically he had no classes, but between Katooni’s work on her thesis and his own research Obi-Wan was on campus a few times a week. It was a relief to have an excuse to get out of the flat for a day and give his mind something to focus on that wasn’t the curve of Rex’s neck. 

After a day spent in the library, his head was still and quiet as he arrived back on Waiheke. He forwent the bus, choosing instead to walk along the main road into town. He listened to the sea as he climbed one of the steep hills that characterized the island. When he first arrived, it had taken him months to get used to the sound of the waves. He hadn’t hated it, but he found it more oppressive than soothing. Now, though, when he spent the occasional night at Cody’s he found he had trouble sleeping with nothing but the soft noise of the street outside. 

It was a bittersweet relief to find what he enjoyed of his life now outweighed what he missed of the old. 

At the top of the stairs, the door to the flat stood open, and he reflexively checked the charms. They were charred white, and the edges of the threshold felt brittle. Something had come through. 

He found Rex in the kitchen with Mrs. Turei, their landlady, who stood small next to Rex, white hair neatly plaited and hands wrapped around Rex’s favorite chipped blue mug. She hadn’t asked many questions when Obi-Wan sent her the deposit and two months rent plus proof of employment a week before he was set to arrive. When he showed up at her door, jetlagged and exhausted and smelling of the airport, she had handed over the keys and a biscuit because, as she said, when someone looked that pathetic they deserved something sweet. 

“I’ll have someone in to fix the lock first thing tomorrow,” she said. “This has never happened before. Is your threshold stable?” 

“It’s fine,” Rex answered. “I have a friend coming to look at it.” 

“What happened?” Obi-Wan asked, hand clenched tight around the strap of his bag. The door to Rex’s room stood open, the floor strewn with clothes. 

“It’s under control,” Rex said, and while he most likely meant it to be reassuring, all it did was cause panic to knot Obi-Wan’s throat closed. “It was a break in. Nothing’s missing from what I can tell. Police were already here and Ahsoka will be by tomorrow to take a look at the threshold.” 

“I feel awful,” Mrs. Turei said. “Is there anything I can do for you boys?” 

“It’s not your fault,” said Rex. “We have it covered.” 

“Are you all right?” Mrs. Turei asked, concerned. 

Obi-Wan swallowed and said, “I'm fine, thank you. It’s a bit of a shock.” 

She patted his arm. “I know, dear. It’s always a nasty surprise when something like this happens in your own home. But don’t you worry. I’ll make sure everything is back in order.” 

“Thank you,” said Rex and took the empty mug from her. “We’ll call you if we need anything.” 

While Rex walked her out, Obi-Wan went to the chest. The strips of iron were cool to the touch and there was frost etched around the lock. It would melt by morning and with it any sign of tampering. 

He inhaled deep, and there it was, hanging so heavy on the air he could taste it. Most people expected the Fair Folk to be fashioned of light, sweet things, like spun sugar or the crisp bite of water on a parched tongue, but he had walked into the mound and he knew the truth: the Fair Folk were of the damp and the bog and they carried it with them. It had been in his university office on the day he packed up the last of his things and in the sheets of Anakin’s hospital room, and it was here now, in the home he shared with Rex. 

His room looked the same, bed still unmade from that morning, dresser against the far wall, small shelf stacked with books and the yellow legal pads filled with notes for next term’s lectures, but it stank of the Fair Folk, as if they had sunk their fingers into the walls and pressed their soles into the floor. 

The useless roll of anger was expected, but it faded fast and was replaced by exhaustion that folded him down onto the mattress. There was no place where he would be free of them, and he was a fool to think otherwise. 

“Here,” Rex said, soft. 

Obi-Wan blinked at the mug Rex held out to him, belatedly taking it. Rex had even added the perfect amount of milk. “Thank you.” 

“You looked like you needed a cup.” Slowly, as if not to startle him, Rex sat beside him. “That’s what you British do, right? Have tea and pretend you don’t have emotions?” 

“You forgot the part where after a cuppa we colonize a nation to cheer ourselves up.” 

“I was trying to be polite.” 

Obi-Wan said, “This is my fault.” 

Rex’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t see how that’s true unless you were the one who broke in and looked for my coat. That doesn’t seem likely considering you know I keep it in the chest. Thank you for that, by the way. You kept it safe. 

He shook his head, warmth from the tea seeping into his hands. “I did everything they asked of me, and I’ve just put you in danger.” 

Rex placed a careful hand on his arm, and grateful as Obi-Wan was for the weight he couldn’t bring himself to meet Rex’s gaze. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” 

He had given away his life once and had to build anew. He didn’t know if he had it in him to do it a second time. 

Eyes closed, he said, “It’s the Fair Folk. I made a deal to save my brother, and I brought them here.” 

* * *

“Ten years,” the Count said. 

“Five,” said Obi-Wan. “And you get the first taste.” 

The Count studied him with his bright, hungry eyes, and said, “We have a deal.” 

He moved aside the plates of pale fruit plucked from the trees that grew low and twisted in the mound and swept away the jug filled with river water that was said to unspool melancholia and replace it with a joy so sharp it bled the corners of the mouth. The way made clear, the Count pushed his perfectly tapered fingers into Obi-Wan’s chest and plucked forth the first of the many pieces that constituted his heart, and swallowed it whole. 

* * *

It began, as all senseless things must, with an accident. Later Obi-Wan would learn it could have been avoided if the rain hadn’t come fast and hard, if the bus had been running on time, if Anakin hadn’t been half asleep on his feet, if the driver hadn’t jerked the wheel to the left when the car hit the slick pavement, if the weight of Anakin’s bag hadn’t been pulling him to the right, if-if-if. 

But that’s what happened, and when Obi-Wan arrived at the hospital Anakin was already in surgery. 

He took a seat in the hard plastic chair, and he waited. 

Time passed. 

He bought a cup of tea he didn’t drink. 

He waited. 

Time passed. 

Satine was there, hair falling tangled into her face, undone as Obi-Wan was undone. She took his hand in hers, and they waited until there was a doctor. 

Obi-Wan recalled her only in snippets: her tired eyes, her rough voice, the way her mouth shaped the words _cranial bleeding_ and _pelvic fractures_ and _we don’t know if he’ll regain consciousness._

This was what he remembered, sharp and clear and terrible: the way Anakin’s lanky frame fit in the hospital bed, how his right arm was folded close this side, how his prosthetic was set on the table positioned to Anakin’s right. 

“That’s wrong,” he said. 

“Oh, Obi-Wan,” Satine said softly, and then louder, “What are you doing?” 

Mindful of the cords and machinery, he wheeled the table to the left of the bed. “It needs to be on this side or he won’t be able to reach it when he wakes up.” 

Anakin had been shy about this arm when they first met. “I like knowing where it is when I wake up,” he had confided once, gaze fixed above Obi-Wan’s head as if he was afraid Obi-Wan would tease him. As if he didn’t know how much Obi-Wan already adored him. 

Obi-Wan brushed careful fingers over Anakin’s brow. They had shaved part of his hair in order to insert a stent. At eleven, when they were suffering an uncommonly warm summer, Qui-Gon had used a pair of old clippers to shorn Anakin’s hair down to a buzz. Anakin had hated it, thinking his skull asymmetrical, and spent the next two months hiding under a hat until it grew out. 

Satine exhaled slow and gentle and said, “Yes, when he wakes up.” 

It was the deliberate gentleness that broke him, for Satine was many things but mindful of her tone was never one of them. 

Obi-Wan knew the grit of grief against his teeth and how remorse burned a ridge along his hard palate, but this despair sat dry and brittle on his tongue. He swallowed it and imagined it spreading into a great pit, one whose edge he circled, waiting to tip over and down. 

“I'm supposed to look after him,” Obi-Wan said. “He’s my brother.” 

He had never been good at physical affection, not like Shmi or Anakin. “How are you so bad at hugging?” Anakin liked to say when he was young, before showing any kind of affection had become desperately uncool. 

Even now the kiss Obi-Wan pressed to Anakin’s brow felt awkward and clumsy. Not for the first time it occurred to him that perhaps he was not made to give or receive love, but for Anakin he would try. 

“Can you look after him until I get back?” he said. 

“Where are you going?” Satine asked, worried. 

“I'm going to take care of him,” he said, and went to do just that. 

* * *

When the last of the Fair Folk had eaten her share of his heart, the Count walked him to the doorway. It was a bright, cloudless day, and before he stepped into the light Obi-Wan asked, “What about my brother?” 

“It’s done.” The Count’s eyes were dull and sated, and he touched gentle fingers to Obi-Wan’s chin, tilting his head back. “Now you must finish giving what you promised.” 

The Count pressed a kiss to the skin above his left eye and then his right, and left him standing under the sun in a flat field with a dry throat and an empty chest. 

* * *

“In the old days,” Obi-Wan said, “the Fair Folk used to walk our world whenever they wished. They took what we gave and stole what they wanted, but then we laid iron down everywhere, even in our heads, and now it’s difficult for them to leave their mounds.” 

“But not impossible,” said Rex. 

“No, not impossible.” The tea had gone cold. “A space must be made for them, a life they can fit themselves into.” 

“And you gave them yours.” Rex sounded unbearably sad. 

“I gave them mine. It was quite the scandal the way I left the university before the term was finished, but needs must. I hope the Fair Folk who took over my position has a better time navigating the department politics than I did.” 

“Obi-Wan—” 

“It’s fine,” Obi-Wan said, because there was pity in Rex’s voice now. “I had to leave Britain, of course. It wouldn’t work if I was still there, and I can’t go back. It’s not my home anymore, and Anakin will be—” he bit off the rest of the sentence, swallowing hard. 

“What else did you give them?” Rex asked. “It wasn’t your career. You’re among the top in your field. I’ve read some of your publications. They’re impressive.” 

“You’ve read my articles?” 

Rex shrugged, awkward. “Cody mentioned them. I was curious.” 

“Ah, yes, of course, Cody,” he said, gentle in the face of Rex’s red ears. “I still have my reputation. It’s one of the reasons I was hired here. Satine had contacts and the administration was desperate to fill the position before the new term began. It was fortuitous for everyone involved.’ 

“So what did you give? I don’t know the Fair Folk like you do, but your life wouldn’t be enough.” 

“I was right about you being irritatingly observant,” he said, and Rex merely raised an eyebrow and waited. “The Fair Folk aren’t like us. They don’t change or grow and they don’t know what loss is. They need us for that, although they’ll never admit it. They would gorge themselves on our anguish if given half a chance. They would swallow us whole.” 

“Obi-Wan,” Rex said. 

“I gave them my heart,” he said, defiant. “Or the part that feeds them. That was the price for saving my brother. They ate my heart, and for five years they’ll feast on my grief.” Rex closed his eyes, as if bracing for what came next. “I can’t have any contact with Anakin. I can’t seek out any information of his life, his health, his happiness, nothing. If I do, if I break my word, then the deal is void, and whatever they did will be undone, and my brother will die.” 

His breath shuddered in and out, and for a moment he could taste the Fair Folk’s air on his tongue. Part of his heart lived within their stomachs, and so part of him would remain under the mound, in the damp and the bog, waiting. 

“It’s only Anakin and me now,” he said. “He’s my responsibility. All I want is him safe, but I just brought the Fair Folk here and put you in danger.” 

“Christ,” Rex said. “You’ve a high opinion of yourself. I was in the military. I can take care of myself. . You think this is the first time one of your Fair Folk tried to take us?” 

Obi-Wan blinked. “I beg your pardon?” 

“They way mum talks they make a play every couple of generations.” Rex shrugged. “They never get anywhere but they keep trying. Seems we’re due again.” 

“But they tried to take your coat,” Obi-Wan said. “She said that hasn’t happened in her lifetime.” 

“Maybe they’ve finally developed an imagination.” He knocked their shoulders together. “I’ll talk to mum. We’ll find a way to settle this.” Rex paused for a moment and then said, oddly gentle, “She might be able to help with your brother.” 

“She can’t,” Obi-Wan said, panic curling tight along his throat. “You can’t. If the deal is broken then—” 

“Hey,” Rex said, hand warm and heavy on the back of Obi-Wan’s neck. “I wouldn’t risk that. You made a deal to save his life. You think I wouldn’t burn my coatfor my brothers?” Rex caught his gaze. “Let us help. I don’t know if we can do anything, but let us try.” 

The Fair Folk’s debt was a heavy thing to carry, and tired and sore from the weight of it, he said, “Please.” 

Rex stroked his thumb along the skin behind Obi-Wan’s ear twice before he stood. “Like I said, you underestimate my family.” He held out his hand. “We need to air your room and sort out our threshold.” 

“And tidy up that mess in your room,” Obi-Wan said, and then, like every time Rex offered, Obi-Wan took his hand and let Rex set him back on his feet. 

* * *

Anakin was a pale and unkempt mound on the bed when Obi-Wan made it back to him. The room reeked of the Fair Folk, the smell of them caught in the folds of the sheets and the tangle of Anakin’s hair, but Anakin was awake. He was alive. 

“Hello,” Obi-Wan said, ignoring the hollow behind his ribs and the dry swallow of his throat. 

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, his prosthetic arm cradled against his chest, “what did you do?” 

* * *

They repaired the charms that night, balanced on kitchen chairs to reach the top of the doorframe. The charred edges were still cool to the touch, but by the time Obi-Wan finished the last curve for _comfort,_ the wood was warm and healthy, although he could still feel the brittle edges where the Fair Folk ripped her way through. 

Ahsoka arrived early the next morning, frowning halfway through a yawn as she stepped inside. 

“I warned you it was rough,” Rex said, passing her a cup of coffee.” 

“I’ve felt worse.” She peered up at the charms. “Looks like your repairs took. That’s a good sign. It’s still a bit sharp around the edges, but I think I can smooth it over.” She set her coffee aside to rummage through her pockets, triumphantly pulling out a plastic bag filled with iron shavings. “They don’t like iron, right? Your Fair Folk?” 

“They don’t,” Obi-Wan said. 

“Perfect.” She grabbed her coffee and, still eyeing their threshold thoughtfully, said, “You’re going to feed me, right?” 

“I'm making a frittata,” Rex said, long suffering. “You can have some _if_ you fix this.” 

“I’ve been fixing your shit for years. I think I can handle this.” Coffee in one hand and bag of iron shavings in the other, she climbed on top of the chair they left beside the door. “Now let me work.” 

They retreated back to the kitchen where Rex shoved a knife and several peppers at him. “Dice those.” 

Obi-Wan did as he was told. As his breakfast culinary skills didn’t extend past eggs and bacon, he left the more complex preparations to Rex. 

“I only told her about the Fair Folk,” Rex said as Obi-Wan scrapped the peppers into the bowl. “I didn’t tell her about your brother.” 

Obi-Wan had woken to the quiet murmur of Rex’s voice, and, half-asleep, had followed the sound to the kitchen where he found Rex cradling his mobile to his ear as he poured milk into Obi-Wan’s favorite mug. 

“He’s going to be fine,” Rex said. “We both are.” 

Obi-Wan hadn’t thought he made any noise, but Rex said goodbye and turned to hand him a cup of tea like he expected Obi-Wan to be there, the same as every morning. 

Sometimes, late at night, he indulged the thought of introducing Rex to Anakin. They would get along, he was sure. How could they not, given how much he cared for them both? 

“You can, you know,” he said. “Tell her, I mean.” 

Rex paused where he was pouring the eggs into the pan. “I don’t have to.” 

“I want you to.” The morning sun did marvelous things for Rex’s cheekbones, and Obi-Wan wondered how long he had ignored the slow wind of tenderness about his ribs. “I can’t ask you to keep secrets from her. You trust her, and so do I.” 

It was quiet but for the sizzle of the hot pan, and Rex gazed at him as if Obi-Wan had broken him open. “Thank you,” Rex said. 

“Got it,” Ahsoka called, and Obi-Wan felt the threshold knit back together, warm and strong and safe. 

“Thank you, Ahsoka,” he said, and then to Rex, “Don’t let that burn. We promised to feed her, after all.” 

* * *

“Take it back,” Anakin said, furious. “You have to take it back.” 

* * *

Obi-Wan had spent the previous two holidays traveling. The previous year he had gone to Cromwell where he spent Christmas day reading and taking long walks through town and only answering Cody’s texts in order reassure him that he had not, in fact, starved to death on a street corner like some Dickensian orphan. 

He had thought to do something similar this year, but he abandoned whatever half formed plans he had when Rex moved in, instead deciding on a quiet day in, just him and several books he had been meaning to get to. 

“Jesus,” Rex said when Obi-Wan had off-handedly mentioned this, “that’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard and I’ve had to listen to Fives’ trying to pick up a girl. Yeah, you’re coming to ours for Christmas.” 

“I don’t want to intrude,” Obi-Wan protested, although it was useless. Cody had invited him in the past, and Obi-Wan suspected the only reason he was able to get out of it was because he hadn’t know the Te Wiatas were selkies. This year he wasn’t so lucky. 

“It’s just the immediate family and Ahsoka,” Rex said. “And mum said to bring you. I am not disappointing my mother.” When Obi-Wan hesitated, Rex sighed and said, “Dad’s going to drink too much and tell embarrassing stories about our childhoods. You really want to miss that?” 

Obi-Wan really didn’t, and so he wore a nice shirt and brought a nice bottle of wine and let Rex bring him home for Christmas. 

Boba answered the door, scowling, and said, “Me and Echo hid the photo albums, and Kix went drinking with uni friends last night so mum and dad have been distracted by him dying all day. I don’t think they’ve noticed anything is missing yet.” 

“Nice work,” Rex said, ruffling Boba’s hair before he could duck out of reach. “Everyone here?” 

“We were just waiting for you,” said Ahsoka, leaning around Boba to grab the wine. “Nice, more alcohol. Come on, kid, if you’re good and help set the table I’ll sneak you a glass.” 

“Don’t get my brother drunk,” Rex said. 

“Like one glass is going to do it,” said Ahsoka, and disappeared down the hall with Boba. 

“If he’s anything like Fives it will,” Rex said, missing the disapproval he was likely aiming for and landing on exasperated fondness. “Come on. They’ll be down here.” 

The hall opened up into the main room, cluttered with comfortable but battered furniture, the seasoned survivors of a family of six boys. Echo and Fives sat on the long sofa, hunched over as they played some fighting game. Anakin most likely would have recognized it, but Obi-Wan was at a loss. 

“Stop cheating,” Fives said, elbowing Echo in the side. 

“I'm not cheating,” Echo retorted. “You just suck.” 

At the other end of the couch, huddled miserably under a blanket, lay Kix. The circles under his eyes were made darker by his pale skin, and he squinted balefully at his brothers with every loud insult they hurled at one another. 

“I hear you’ve been dying most of the day,” Rex said, dropping his voice even as he cuffed the back of Fives’ and Echo’s head on his way past. 

“The tequila shots might have been a mistake,” Kix said. 

“Tequila is always a mistake,” Rex said. 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Obi-Wan said, overcome with nostalgia for the night he celebrated successfully defending his thesis. Although remembered was perhaps not entirely accurate, as his recollection was hazy and blurred from the innumerable shots of varying colors he had imbibed as it crept from a alcohol sodden night to an alcohol sodden morning, albeit one tinged with nausea and regret. “I take it this means you’ve finished your exams this term?” 

Kix waved a hand in his general direction, which Obi-Wan took as agreement. 

“How much schooling do you have left?” he asked. Jesse had proudly boasted about Kix being in medical school even though the family presumably was already aware. 

“Another year of medical school,” Kix said, “and then my internship, residency, and probably a fellowship.” He stared glassy eyed at the ceiling and said in a defeated voice, “Do we have any more tequila?” 

“No more for you today,” Rex said, and ran an affectionate hand over Kix’s head. 

“Absolutely no more for you until your liver’s recovered,” Anahera said, slipping in from the kitchen. “Obi-Wan, I'm so glad you could join us this year.” Bypassing an amused Rex completely, she swept him into a fierce hug. Prepared for it this time, he returned the embrace properly with only a faint lingering awkwardness. 

“Thank you for having me,” he said as Anahera squeezed tight before releasing him. “You have a lovely home.” 

She snorted, as inelegant as Rex. “So you’ve said before. It’s a miracle it’s still standing after what this lot has done. I’ve lost track how many holes they put in the walls we’ve had to patch.” 

“Eleven by my count,” Jango said from behind her. He was cradling four glasses. “At least three of those were Kix.” 

“There were extenuating circumstances for all of those,” Kix said darkly, and pointed at the twins, who wore identical looks of wide eyed innocence that Obi-Wan recognized from all the times Anakin swore he had no idea where those burned marks on the ceiling came from. 

“I know, sweetheart,” Anahera said. “Now I brought drinks. What would you like, Obi-Wan?” 

“ _We_ brought drinks,” Cody said, moving slow and careful. Like his father, he cradled four glasses in his hands. 

“Well, I gave birth to you and you brought the drinks,” Anahera said. “So by the law of transitive properties I brought the drinks. 

“You and Rex make so much more sense now,” Obi-Wan said, amused. 

“You know,” said Cody, “I don’t have to give you this whiskey.” 

“Yes, you do,” Anahera said. “He’s our guest. Rex, help your brother and father before they drop something.” 

Rex sighed, but did as he was told, divesting Jango and Cody each of a glass, one of which went to Echo, who set down his controller to take it, and the other to Kix. 

Kix snaked out one hand from his blanket, sniffing cautiously at the contents. “Is this cranberry juice? What did you mix it with?” 

“Nothing,” Cody answered. “I can hear your liver crying from here.” 

“That’s fair,” Kix said, and retreated back into his cocoon. 

Drinks properly distributed, Cody touched his glass to Obi-Wan’s and said, “It’s going to be a little while before the food’s ready. Boba is pretending he knows how to drink wine to impress Ahsoka, and Ahsoka is taking video for posterity’s sake.” 

“Then she gets to care of him when he starts vomiting,” Rex said, eyeing his mother. “You’re not going to put to a stop to that?” 

“He’s fine,” Anahera said, waving dismissively. “You were even younger than him when you had your first beer. Yes, I know about that. You hadn’t learned to be sneaky yet. And stop snickering, Fives. You were so bad at it I couldn’t even pretend not to notice you trying to smuggle that bottle out to your mates.” 

“I can be stealthy,” Fives protested. 

Cody raised one eyebrow. 

“Shut up, I can.” 

“Of course you can,” Echo said in such a condescending manner that he earned the hard punch to the shoulder Fives delivered. 

Anahera shook her head at her sons’ antics, and said, “Cody, why don’t you give Obi-Wan a quick tour? He’s only seen the front rooms.” Before Rex could protest, she added, “You get to nurse Kix back to something resembling human. You know you’re his favorite.” 

“You are,” Kix agreed, and shifted his legs to make room for Rex on the sofa. 

“What, you’re too good for us?” Fives asked. 

Eyes closed, Kix said, “I used to dream about you both being kidnapped. It was very peaceful.” 

At Echo’s genuinely offended look, Cody tilted his head to towards the door at the right, and Obi-Wan followed him, half-listening to the bickering that was edging from friendly to heated. 

Perhaps correctly interpreting his expression, Cody said, “Rex will step in before it gets too bad. Mum and dad always took the position it was best for us to work it out amongst ourselves.” They moved through another hall towards a staircase. “The three of them used to be at each other’s throats as kids. When Echo was in hospital, Kix was the only one Fives would talk to. It’s been better since then.” 

“I find age helps smooth out old childhood squabbles,” Obi-Wan said. 

The walls were littered with framed photographs, a mixture of portraits and wide shots of the sea, and Obi-Wan peered curiously at them as they passed. 

“Dad fancies himself a photographer,” Cody said. “Our entire childhoods we couldn’t walk more than two steps without him taking a picture of it.” 

Obi-Wan paused at a family portrait. It was presumably taken before Boba was born as all the brothers were relatively young in it: Cody and Rex were gangly adolescents while the twins and Kix’s faces were still soft and round with baby fat. There was no mistaking them for anything but brothers, sharing the same stubborn chins and sharply angled eyebrows and the fine high cheekbones as they did, but at that age it was blindingly apparent they were entirely their mother’s sons. 

“You look just like Anahera,” Obi-Wan said. 

“Dad calls us her clones. According to mum, selkie genes are much more dominant.” 

Hanging just a few meters away was a portrait of Rex in uniform, strong jawed and handsome and heartbreakingly young. If Obi-Wan had known Rex then, when he was still a mouthy punk who didn’t know any better, he wouldn’t have stood a chance. It seemed he still had a bit of knack of lying to himself, Obi-Wan had to privately admit, because the truth was he hadn’t stood one now. 

“Mum wasn’t happy when he signed up,” said Cody, easily seeing where Obi-Wan’s gaze lingered. “She knew he would have to leave his coat behind, and it’s not easy for us. Fives took it the worst. He would never admit it, but he’s always looked up to Rex.” 

“Why did he join?” He had asked once, but Rex had only shrugged and said it seemed as good an idea as any. 

“Because he’s always been a good shot and he can’t help but look after everyone. And,” Cody added, rueful, “he was under the impression that officer training would require less course work.” 

Obi-Wan winced, sympathetic. 

“You should have heard him whine that first year.” Cody smiled at the memory before shaking his head. “Come on, I’ll show you everything else.” 

They wound their way upstairs, past yet more pictures of the boys over the years, and Obi-Wan was enamored of the few of them in their seal skins. Cody led him past bedrooms and the bathroom until they came to a room tucked at the very end. It was neat and orderly, small but not claustrophobic, with two twin beds pushed against each of the far walls. It served as a guest room, Obi-Wan presumed, but there were bits of life lingering in the old music posters tacked on the wall, plastic dinosaurs still littering the top of the dresser, old paperbacks with cracked spines and dog eared pages stacked beside the bed as if waiting for the owner to huddle under a blanket with a torch and the burning desire to read one more chapter. 

“Is this your room?” he asked. 

“Yes,” Cody answered. “And then Rex came along and I was forced to share it. I’d thought you’d like it.” 

Between the beds hung another picture of three seals bobbing in the water. Anahera was easy to identify with her blonde fur and the proud look on her face, but of the two seal pups swimming alongside her, he couldn’t tell which was Cody and which was Rex. 

“That was his first swim,” Cody said, and pointed to the pup on the left. “Mum had to help him into his coat. It took him ages to decide to get in the water, but as soon as he made up his mind there was no stopping him.” 

“He is very determined,” Obi-Wan agreed, and blamed the whiskey for how terribly fond he sounded. 

“He’s a stubborn arsehole and a good man. Don’t tell him I said that.” 

“Your secret is safe with me.” 

Cody sat on one bed and drained his drink. “You could have told me about your brother.” 

He should have expected this, Obi-Wan thought, finishing his whiskey and setting the glass on a shelf next to a plastic triceratops; Cody preferred to lull the unsuspecting into a false sense of security before ambushing them. 

“If you wanted to know about Anakin, you didn’t have to go through this pretense. You just need to ask.” 

“Because you never twist your way out of answering any question you consider to be prying, like ‘how are you.’” Cody said. 

Obi-Wan took a seat on the other bed. Cody had taken him in when Obi-Wan was adrift and alone, and deserved nothing less than the truth. “You think I don’t trust you.” 

Cody raised a single eyebrow. 

“You have to realize,” Obi-Wan said, picking each word with care, “that what I did, giving one of the Fair Folk a place to belong, allowing them to make a claim on this world, was foolish at best and dangerous at worst. I did it to save my brother, but not many would see it in that way.” 

“It was both of those things,” Cody said, stoic expression giving nothing away, “but that’s not what I mean. You never mention Anakin if you can help it. I learned about your insane filing system before I figured out you had a brother. The way you talked around him, I thought he must have died.” 

Obi-Wan flinched. 

“It did explain how the way you were the first year. You moved like you’d been gutted. What else was I supposed to think?” 

“I wasn’t that bad,” Obi-Wan protested, but of course he had been. Anakin’s absence was that of half his heart, and Obi-Wan was no good without him. 

“No, you were worse.” Cody set aside his empty glass. “I understand why you didn’t tell me about the Fair Folk. I never told you about us.” He nodded to the picture of them in their seal skins. “But you could have talked to me about Anakin. I know what’s it like to almost lose a brother.” 

Two months into that first term, Obi-Wan found Echo waiting for Cody outside his locked office. “His class is running late,” Echo had said with a shrug. 

He noted Echo’s prosthetics and offered his own office and its questionably comfortable chair for Echo to wait in until Cody showed up, looking as contrite as was possible without moving any facial muscles. 

“Car accident,” Cody had explained later, the two of them locking up after their office hours. “His side was hit, and he got trapped.” 

Obi-Wan would piece it together from the careful bits Cody let slip over the years: the months Echo spent in hospital; the surgeries that followed; how Rex was granted leave and arrived with Ahsoka in tow; how Echo refused to speak to any of them for weeks, and how, like in all things, Fives followed suit; the anger rotting under everyone’s skins; and the day it finally broke open. 

“Rex says you think you were the one who brought the Fair Folk here,” Cody said. “I don’t think that’s true, but even if you did, I don’t care.” 

The apology withered on his tongue. “I don’t understand.” 

“I don’t know what we would have done if Echo had died. I don’t think Fives would have survived it.” Cody bowed his head. “Even when we were told he would make it, we didn’t know if would be able to wear his seal skin again. His body might not have been able to take the change. Echo was so afraid that if he couldn’t wear his coat, he wouldn’t be part of the family. I have never seen dad as angry as when Echo said that. They fought. I’d never heard either of them like that before. Dad got through to him eventually. He’s always been the only one who could.” 

Obi-Wan crossed the space between the beds to sit next to Cody, pressing their shoulders together. He may be poor at easing pain, but he knew how to share it and ease the loneliness it brought. Even the meager comfort he could offer was preferable to leaving Cody to swallow that sorrow alone. 

Cody cleared his throat. “I would have done the same as you. I would have invited your Fair Folk into my home and given them my coat if it meant Echo would live. I wouldn’t have hesitated.” 

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Obi-Wan said, “but it doesn’t absolve me of—” 

“You made a deal,” Cody said, firm and unyielding, “and you have to live with that choice, but if you’re looking for someone to feed your guilt, you’re not going to find that in this house. You took care of your family. We do the same.” 

Sorrow did not have to be born alone, and Obi-Wan had forgotten that. There was a time when he thought it kinder to curl up tight within the empty space in his chest and endure in solitude, but that was another of the Fair Folk’s clever tricks. He did not have to bear this alone, not anymore. 

“Thank you,” he said. “I don’t believe I ever told you what your friendship has meant to me.” 

Cody snorted. “You’d have to admit you have feelings to do that, and we can’t have that stiff upper lip of yours falling off.” 

“It will never fall off,” he said. “I'm much too British to allow that.” 

When Anahera called them to dinner, they were both smiling. 

* * *

Dinner was a loud, cheerful affair, and Obi-Wan spent it sitting between Rex and Kix, who was still wrapped in his hangover blanket. It felt like he could barely take two bites before Anahera or Jango was refilling his plate. Rex finally took pity on him and said, “Yeah, that’s enough,” and shoved the dishes away. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly. 

Rex’s arm was draped over the back of his chair and he rubbed his thumb absently against Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “You’re welcome.” 

“Seriously?” said Ahsoka from where she was sitting across from them. 

“I know,” Boba said. “It’s gross.” 

After everyone had finished with dinner, they cleared the table, which Anahera oversaw like a general surveying her troops in battle, and moved back to the main room where Boba, as the youngest, was given the responsibility of passing out the gifts. As had become tradition, Obi-Wan and Cody exchanged respective bottles of scotch and whiskey, which would be empty by the time the next term ended. He had the sneaking suspicion Rex put both their names on the gifts he had brought for the rest of his family. 

“For you,” Boba said, handing over several sloppily wrapped presents. 

At his surprised look, Anahera said, “Did you think we were going to forget you?” 

“No,” he said, “of course not, thank you.” 

There were gift cards and useful items for the flat—or, he thought with amusement as he unwrapped a single ladle, what the brothers considered useful—but one elaborately decorated basket full of various spices left him baffled. 

“You British invaded the world for spices but you refuse to use them,” Ahsoka said, a brightly colored scarf looped around her neck. “You live with Rex, you’re gonna learn.” 

“I suppose that’s fair,” Obi-Wan allowed. “Thank you.” 

Rex opened a flat, rectangle box, and turned an unamused look on Ahsoka. Obi-Wan peered over Rex’s shoulder, and just before Rex slammed the box closed, got a glimpse of what appeared to be a pair of silk boxer briefs. 

“For when you finally figure it out,” Ahsoka said with a horrifying eyebrow waggle that made the back of Obi-Wan’s neck flush for no good reason. The grin dropped away when she unwrapped Rex’s gift and held up a bottle of what Obi-Wan presumed was high end perfume. 

“For when you finally get your shit together and get yourself a girl,” he answered. Ahsoka threw a crumpled ball of wrapping paper at his head. “There’s also a knife in there.” 

“That’s what I'm talking about,” Ahsoka said, and dug through the tissue paper before pulling out a curved blade, which she cooed sweet endearments to. 

Obi-Wan’s last inexplicable gift was a garish floral patterned shirt that looked to be at least one size too large. “This is very colorful,” he said, gingerly holding it up with the tips of his fingers. 

“You wore a sweater _to_ _the beach_ ,” Fives said from where he sat in the middle of a ring of wrapping paper. Like Anakin, the brothers eschewed patient unwrapping and instead ripped the packages open within seconds. “You need a proper shirt.” 

“How thoughtful,” he said, and set it aside. “Thank you.” 

Rex leaned close and said, “We’ll say it got stolen on the ferry.” 

He privately doubted anyone would believe that even the most desperate and color blind of thieves stealing something as loud and clashing as the shirt, but he appreciated the sentiment. 

“Obi-Wan,” Jango said after all the gifts had been opened, “did I tell you about the time Cody tried to give Rex away?” 

“You have not,” Obi-Wan answered, trying to sound less delighted for Rex’s sake, who merely sighed in resignation. 

“Better you than me,” Kix said with a consoling pat to Rex’s shoulder. 

“You know how he naps anywhere after a swim,” Jango continued, and Obi-Wan nodded and pretended he didn’t notice Rex’s ears turning bright red as his brothers snickered. “Well, when he was eight he wandered out of the cove and fell asleep on the beach. His mother and I were busy making sure these two idiots didn’t drown themselves,” and he pointed to Fives and Echo, “so we left Cody to look after him.” 

“Why would you do that?” Rex said. “He once poured a bag of crisps over Fives’ head so that seagulls would swarm him.” 

“You can’t prove I did that,” Cody said. 

“I have a scar,” Fives said, and pointed to the faint curve of it on his temple. Cody raised an eyebrow and pointed to his own more prominent one. “It still counts,” Fives muttered, mulish. “And I have nightmares about that.” 

Jango pointedly cleared his throat. “I leave them alone for maybe ten minutes, only to come back to find two university students trying to coax Rex back into the water while Cody was doing his best to convince them that Rex escaped from the aquarium and needed to be returned.” 

“In my defense,” Cody said, “if they did take Rex I’d have got my room back.” 

“It’s not a defense when you’re encouraging the abduction of your own brother,” Echo said. 

“What happened?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“Well,” said Jango, clearly relishing this moment as Rex looked heavenward for patience, “one girl kept trying to pick him up to get him back into the water, but Rex kept yelling at her in the angriest squeak you’ve ever heard. When I got there she was nearly in tears, the poor thing. I convinced them I was a marine biologist and that he hadn’t been abandoned by his mother and was just in need of a good nap. Rex, of course, glared at them until they left.” 

Balanced on the armrest with Jango’s arm around her waist, Anahera said, “It was rather adorable.” 

Patience clearly not found, Rex scrubbed a hand over his flushed face. 

“You’ve always been so cranky if anyone woke you from a nap before you were ready,” Anahera added, smiling at the memory. 

Obi-Wan had witnessed that firsthand the few times Rex had nodded off during the day only to come up with a glare when Ahsoka shook him. Obi-Wan had found the best method was to start coffee brewing and let Rex drift awake at his own pace. 

“Are we done with the horrifying childhood stories part of the evening?” Rex said. 

“Not even close, kid,” said Jango. “Who wants to hear about the first time he tried to catch a fish?” 

The sheer joy Jango took in Rex’s dismayed expression was so reminiscent of Qui-Gon that Obi-Wan could only smile at the expected pang in his chest. Qui-Gon had hoarded embarrassing anecdotes and photos, just waiting for when Obi-Wan and Anakin brought dates home. Qui-Gon never got the chance to use them and neither had Shmi. Sitting in the midst of the Te Wiatas’ affectionate teasing of Rex, Obi-Wan let the regret crest over him like a wave ebbing back out to sea. 

In London, Christmas morning was breaking, and in another few hours Anakin would be reluctantly waking up and reaching to his left for his prosthetic. He would then sit down to breakfast with Beru and Owen, and later they would go visit Owen’s father where they would open presents and have a proper Christmas dinner. 

Their first holiday together, just him and Anakin, they had bought a small synthetic tree under which they carefully stacked their presents. That morning Obi-Wan had burned the eggs and Anakin broke the kettle, and that night as they ate Chinese takeaway and ignored the television, Anakin said, “This sucks.” 

“I know,” said Obi-Wan, and wondered if he was allowed to brush Anakin’s fringe from his eyes as Shmi had always done. “Perhaps we should have gone away somewhere.” 

“What, and miss all this?” Anakin stabbed his chopsticks at their pathetic tree and the lights Obi-Wan had strung up along one window in hopes it would cheer up the room. 

“You raise a good point. Who else would make the neighbors look festive by comparison?” 

Anakin smiled for the first time all day, and said, “Maybe next year we could get a real tree?” 

“I'm not convinced you won’t set it on fire within the first hour of having it,” Obi-Wan said, and risked brushing a hand through the nest of Anakin’s hair, “but I suppose we can give it a try.” 

Obi-Wan missed Anakin the way he would miss a lung or his ribs: it was an injury he could survive, but he would never be the same. 

He cleared his throat, and said, “My brother, Anakin, he was impossible to wake up. Even on Christmas all he wanted to do was sleep.” They were all staring at him and so there was nothing for it but to soldier on. “He could sleep through any alarm and was constantly late to school. One morning after he got up, walked across the room, turned off the alarm, and got back into bed I took drastic measures and poured a glass of water over his head.” 

“How did that end up for you?” Rex asked, as if it was just the two in the kitchen, letting the conversation meander where it would. 

“He threw his arm at me,” he said, laughing a little at the memory. “He has a prosthetic and distressingly good aim.” 

“Echo’s done the same thing,” said Cody, “but he can’t aim for shit.” 

“Baby,” Anahera said at Echo’s offended glare, “you know I love you, but your aim really is shit.” 

Fives snickered, and Echo said, “Hey, at least I always wear pants.” 

“That is true,” Jango said. “You were always took off your coat and ran about in the nude.” 

Fives shrugged, unbothered. “Pants are bullshit.” 

“Boba was worse,” Jango said to Obi-Wan in a conspiratorial whisper that was louder than his regular speaking voice. “He refused to wear any clothes until he was six. He would hide entire outfits, and we still have no idea what he did with them. It got to the point where it was easier on our budget to just let him run about naked. He flashed everyone on this street at least once. I have pictures. Where are those albums?” 

“ _Mum,_ ” Boba hissed, mortified. 

“That’s the cue for coffee and dessert,” Anahera said, standing. “Jango, you and the kids clean up in here and Obi-Wan and I will get everything sorted in the kitchen, yeah?” 

Feeling as if he was as young gazelle being culled from the herd, Obi-Wan obediently followed Anahera to the kitchen while behind him everyone groaned and began to gather up all the boxes and wrapping paper. 

“Cups are over there,” Anahera reminded him as she set about cutting into several of the pies left cooling on the counter. “Coffee is next to the machine.” 

It was a similar model to the one he and Rex owned, and so Obi-Wan went about the familiar routine of measuring out the coffee grounds. Anahera hummed something tuneless and soothing as she gathered more plates and silverware, stacking everything on a plastic tray. 

“The shelf on your right,” she said, “no, over more, yes, that one. There’s tea for you. I'm afraid I couldn’t remember what you like, but Rex said you preferred herbal blends, so there’s a few for you to choose from.” 

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said. After the first dinner with the family where he had politely declined the coffee Anahera offered, she kept at least one box of tea on hand for him. 

“You and Cody talked?” She frowned at a bag of sugar before tossing in a spoon and setting the entire thing on the tray that was rapidly becoming over burdened. “Oh, here’s the kettle for you.” 

He filled the electric kettle and turned it on. “We did.” 

“Then you know you’re always welcome here.” She squeezed a carton of milk onto to the tray. At this rate there would be no room for the pies. “Rex explained the details of the deal you made. I'm sorry you had to go through that alone.” 

He chose chamomile, and pulled out a tea bag. “It wasn’t so bad, and I was very lucky to end up here with all of you.” 

“It still couldn’t have been easy.” She placed a gentle hand on his arm, just below his elbow. “We can help, if you let us. There are certain avenues open to us that you are closed to you.” 

He shook his head. “You can’t. If the deal is broken—” 

“I won’t do anything to endanger your brother, I promise, but if he’s coming to live with you he’s going to need a visa at the very least. We’ll get that sorted.” Her gripped tightened, and she said, as firm and unmovable as Shmi had been, “And we can make sure the deal is satisfied and Anakin makes it back to you.” 

“How?” he asked, the word small in his mouth. 

“We’re selkies. We keep the edges. There’s more to us than just our coats.” She touched gentle fingers to his chin. “You saved my boy, Obi-Wan. Let me return the favor.” 

The kettle whistled, and Obi-Wan said, “Anything you can do, I would appreciate it. Thank you.” 

Anahera tugged on his arm, and Obi-Wan lowered his head so she could place a kiss above his right eye and then his left. “We look after one another.” 

“We’ll be fine,” Anakin had said. 

“Of course we will,” Obi-Wan had answered, and hoped time would not make the words a lie. 

The imprint of Anahera’s lips on his skin, Obi-Wan said, “When I came here, I didn’t expected to find anyone like you and your family, and I am so grateful that I did.” 

“Well, lucky for you we have a weakness for sad, skinny white boys.” She poured the water into his mug. “Now if you would be so kind as to bring the coffee, we should go before they come looking for us.” 

She effortlessly lifted the overburdened tray, and Obi-Wan, carafe in one hand and his cup of tea in the other, followed her back to the main room where Rex met him halfway, and said, “I got this.” 

“Of course you do,” said Obi-Wan, and passed over the coffee and let Rex lead him back to the sofa where his family were waiting for them both. 

* * *

The holiday break wound on, and Obi-Wan spent the week between Christmas and New Year’s eschewing all work and lazing about the flat. When he wasn’t reading his way through the stack of books he kept meaning to get to, he was giving Rex notes on his CV as Rex had got serious about his job search. 

“I can’t spend every day making sure you get fed,” Rex said. 

Obi-Wan crossed out a sentence. “And here I thought you were finally admitting to being unbearably bored.” 

“I'm not bored,” said Rex, who had spent the past week in quiet, intense conversations with Ahsoka that broke off whenever Obi-Wan entered the room. 

Obi-Wan looked over their newly cleaned and reorganized refrigerator and freezer, and said dryly, “My mistake.” 

They spent New Year’s at Boil and Waxer’s house with a variety of Te Wiata cousins where they all got inadvisably drunk and barely made it to midnight. 

“Didn’t we use to be able to drink more than this?” Ashoka asked from the floor where she was sprawled over Rex’s legs. 

Obi-Wan had tucked himself onto the corner of the sofa not occupied by a sleeping Aayla and Bly. Rex’s head was propped against his knee, and, more drunk than sober, Obi-Wan brushed absent fingers along the soft fuzz of Rex’s hair. 

“I have a kid,” Boil said as he and Waxer passed out pillows and blankets. “What’s your excuse?” 

“I used to be younger,” Rex said, eyes closed. 

“You were never young,” said Boil, who had served with Rex and Ahsoka. He nudged Rex in the side. “Get up, all of you. I saved you a bed.” 

“You’ve always been my favorite.” 

Ahsoka made an offended noise. 

“My favorite sergeant,” Rex amended. “You’re my favorite pain in the arse.” 

“Damn right I am,” Ahsoka said, and staggered unsteadily upright. 

Morning found Obi-Wan waking up from where he was trapped between two bodies, which was a position he last found himself in during his early twenties. Quite a lot of alcohol had been involved in that night as well, if he remembered correctly. It was only a minor comfort this time to discover it was only Ahsoka and Rex. 

Boil and Waxer served everyone coffee and dry toast before calling taxis and unceremoniously kicking them out. The three of them retreated back to the flat where Rex cooked a disgustingly greasy breakfast and they each wrapped themselves in their own hangover blankets where they remained for the rest of the day. 

“I hope Anakin drank responsibly,” Obi-Wan said at dusk. 

“He’s related to you,” Rex said, eyes half open. Ahsoka had fallen asleep on his lap again. “I'm sure he didn’t.” 

Considering the headache no amount of paracetamol could banish, Obi-Wan had to agree with Rex’s assessment. It was something that ran in the family. 

* * *

“I can fix this,” Anakin said, eyes damp and jaw tight. “Let me fix this.” 

“Oh, Anakin,” he said, feeling unbearably tender as he brushed his fingers along Anakin’s shaved head, which the Fair Folk had mended whole, “there’s nothing to fix.” 

* * *

Obi-Wan had just finished his morning cup of tea when Rex said, “My brothers are coming over today.” 

“Any special occasion?” he asked, watching as Rex began to assemble sandwiches. They were going to need quite a few to keep everyone fed. 

Rex shook his head and went to get more lettuce. “No. When we’re all in the same place, we set aside a day just for us. We’re just going for a swim. Maybe up to the cliff. You’re going to need sunscreen.” 

“I beg your pardon,” Obi-Wan said. “I thought you said it was just you and your brothers.” 

“And you.” Rex slid the sandwiches into plastic bags. “Ahsoka will be here, too.” 

Ahsoka hardly counted as an outsider. She was obviously as much a part of the family as Rex himself. 

It must have shown on his face, because Rex said, “We want you to come.” 

“We’re going to need more food, then,” Obi-Wan said, and went to see what was in the refrigerator. 

The brothers arrived all together in a pack with Ahsoka in the lead, arms bared and aviators perched on the end of her nose. 

“So we’ve decided,” she said as Rex finished packing the cooler, “that we should go cliff diving. What’s with the face?” She pointed at Obi-Wan. 

There were cliffs along the western side of the island where the brave and the foolish jumped into the water beneath. He had stumbled upon them his first month of Waiheke, and had watched as people leapt either alone or in pairs, their hands clenched together and shouting in a mixture of fright and joy. 

“It’s for tourists,” he said, trying to keep the judgment from his voice but obviously failing by the looks he received. 

“Really, white dude, you’re complaining about tourists?” said Boba. 

“I have a permanent address and I pay taxes,” Obi-Wan said. “I am not a tourist.” 

“He’s got a point,” said Rex. 

“Yeah, because you’re unbiased,” Fives said. “Can we just go hurl ourselves off a cliff before it gets busy and we have to wait in line?” 

“How am I the only one in this family who ended up losing limbs?” Echo said, and then yelped when Fives grabbed him around the neck and dragged him to the door. 

“Hey, Obi-Wan,” Fives said, glancing back, “where’s the shirt we got you for Christmas?” 

“We lost it on the ferry,” Rex replied. “We think someone took it.” 

“Ah, of course, those notorious ferry thieves,” Cody said dryly. 

Fives frowned. “That sucks. Don’t worry. We’ll get you another.” 

“I don’t want to put you out,” Obi-Wan said. 

“You’re not. It was only like five dollars.” 

Rex shook his head, and Obi-Wan said, “Oh, well, thank you.” 

They took the bus to the beach, where they left their bags and the cooler. In the sand, Ahsoka drew protective charms to ward off any thieves, and inside those Cody sketched quick lines that Obi-Wan didn’t recognize. 

“We have our own charms,” Cody said when he asked. 

And then, coats in hand they followed the trail up towards the cliff. It was slow going, picking a path that would be easiest for Echo, who begrudgingly leaned heavily on Fives and Kix when the trail went steep and narrow. It was early enough that they were the only ones at a wide, flat spot. 

“Um,” said Boba when they reached the top. “This is higher than I was expecting.” 

“You backing out on us?” Fives asked. 

Boba scowled. “No,” he said, and shoved his coat at Obi-Wan. “Hold this.” 

Cody cleared his throat. 

“Please,” Boba added, rolling his eyes. 

“Best give them all to me,” Obi-Wan said, “as I'm not jumping. Don’t look at me like that, Rex. If I do who will watch over these?” 

“Me,” said Echo, gathering coats from his brothers. “I’d rather not leave my prosthetics up here.” 

“I’d come back for them,” Five said. He peered over the edge. “How far down is it?” 

“Eight meters,” Kix answered. “But the water’s at least twenty meters deep. What?” he added at the looks from Fives and Boba. “Yes, I looked it up. Someone has to make sure we don’t die.” 

Boba edged back from the cliff, his mask of indifference cracking to show nerves. Obi-Wan shifted the coats in his arm, and said, quietly, “How loudly do you think Fives is going to scream?” 

“Really loud,” Boba said, giving him a look that would be grateful if he wasn’t fifteen. “You should have heard him when that snake got in the house.” 

“Or when the seagulls dived him,” Cody added, clapping a hand on Boba’s shoulder. “What do you think? Want to give it a try?” 

Boba glanced over at the rest of his brothers, and said, “What the hell.” 

Cody grinned and took Boba’s hand. “Let’s show them how’s it done, kid.” 

Then before Obi-Wan could wish them luck, they took off running, leaping over the edge and seeming to hang against the blue sky for one heart stopping moment before dropping out of sight. 

“Oh, it’s on,” Ahsoka said, and grabbed Rex by the arm. “There is no way they’re showing us up.” 

Rex paused just long enough to hand his coat to Obi-Wan before he ran after Ahsoka, who reached back for Rex’s hand. She grinned and gave a wild shout as they jumped. 

“Well, now we have to,” Kix said. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be the reasonable one?” Fives asked as Kix dragged him to the edge. “This seems like one of the things you should be talking us out of.” 

“That is a good point,” Kix said. Fives’ shoulders sagged with relief. 

“Wait for it,” Echo said quietly. 

“But actually this seems like more fun,” Kix said and when to shove him over the edge. 

Fives was faster, grabbing Kix’s wrists and dragging Kix along as he fell backward. Kix’s betrayed shout was drowned out by Five’s laughter. 

“You know,” Obi-Wan said as he and Echo carefully picked their way back down the path, one hand on Echo’s elbow to stabilize him, “I thought at least one of them would back out.” 

“We never back out of anything,” Echo said. “It’s probably going to be our downfall one day. If I didn’t have these,” and he lifted his prosthetic arm, “I would have gone with them.” 

“I'm sure we can figure out something for next time.” 

“Only if you jump with us,” Echo said. 

“I’ll consider it,” Obi-Wan answered. 

The Te Wiatas were waiting for them when they reached the bottom of the path. Obi-Wan distributed the coats to their rightful owners. It was fairly easy to tell them apart; Rex’s was lighter in color than his brothers’ and felt different to the touch. Not softer, but sleeker somehow. 

“You set up a place yet?” Cody asked. 

Rex nodded. “It’s not too far from here. Echo, you okay to walk?” 

“I’ll let you know if I’m not,” Echo said. 

They gathered their things and, wiping the sand clean of the charms, followed Rex down the beach to an outcropping of rock, which provided protection from most of the beach. It was close to Dex’s café, and must be where Rex went most mornings to swim. 

As Obi-Wan crossed the sand, there was the faint shiver of a threshold, new and fragile still, but with the potential for its roots to grow deep and strong. It was familiar, as if a softer version of the cove the Te Wiatas had nurtured over generations. It could become that, if given enough time and care. 

“It feels good,” Cody said. “You’ve been working on it?” 

“Me and Ahsoka,” Rex answered. Ahsoka wore the look of a proud parent. “It’s a slow process.” 

“Don’t listen to him, baby,” she said, bending over to pat the sand. “You’re perfect and we love you.” 

“It’s a strong foundation,” Cody said with an approving nod. “It’s already taking.” 

Rex looked pleased as he directed his brothers to set up their little camp. As Obi-Wan unpacked the beach towels, he could have sworn he felt the threshold as a low hum of a well loved song. 

“I’ve never felt a threshold being born,” Obi-Wan said to Cody in a low voice, “and not one outside of a physical structure.” 

“We’re selkies,” Cody said, shrugging. “We look to the edges of things. This,” and he gestured to the sand and the sea and the sky above them, “is our home. Rex is building a life here. This threshold will be a strong one as long as it’s tended to.” 

The last sentence was paired with a pointed look that Obi-Wan pretended not to notice. He was too aware of Rex now, of the way they orbited each other, and he didn’t dare trip and upset the balance. 

“We good?” Ahsoka asked. She had already stripped down to her bathing suit, water lapping at her ankles as she waited impatiently at the shoreline. 

“Calm down,” Echo said as Fives helped him to the water. “Not all of us have two legs.” 

Boba followed behind with Echo’s coat, and held it out for him to slide on, and where Echo had been standing was a seal with dark eyes missing his two right flippers, and Obi-Wan couldn’t say when the change happened. Fives and Boba slid into their seal skins, and Boba knocked into Ahsoka’s legs before bounding into the waves. 

“Really?” Ahsoka said as she chased after him, water up to her knees, her waist, her shoulders, and then she dived under. Just before Obi-Wan lost sight of her he caught sight of what might have been the tip of a scaled tail. 

“You coming in?” Cody asked, shaking out his coat. It was a dark brown and heavier than Rex’s. 

“In a bit,” Obi-Wan answered, pulling out a book and making himself comfortable on a towel. “You go on.” 

“Put on more sunscreen before you burn,” said Rex, and slid on this coat. 

There was Rex the man and then there was Rex the seal, still watching him with the same fond eyes even if the face they were set in was different. It was still Rex, and no matter what skin he wore, Obi-Wan would know him anywhere. 

He set aside his book in favor of watching the brothers. They kept close to shore, for his benefit Obi-Wan had no doubt, chasing after one another or diving under the water to surface meters away. He couldn’t see Ahsoka, but she was out there with her family. 

Under him, the threshold thrummed, and he placed his hand flat upon the sand. He was wrong; it wasn’t a hum, but a heartbeat, steady and true. 

When Qui-Gon first took him into his home, he had made tea in mismatched china cups with chipped handles. They had toast with raspberry jam, and when they finished, Qui-Gon placed the dishes in the sink and led Obi-Wan to the door of his small home. 

“Will you help me?” Qui-Gon asked, and pointed to the charms etched along the doorframe. “You belong here,” he had added at Obi-Wan’s confused look. “You can make this your home, if you want.” 

He brought a stool from the kitchen and helped Obi-Wan climb on it, and then he had shown Obi-Wan the charms to draw: safety, hearth, warmth. Obi-Wan added his own curls to each one, as his parents had done once, and at the end Qui-Gon had nodded, satisfied, and said, “It looks good. What do you think?” 

And Obi-Wan had said, “I like it.” 

Obi-Wan looked back to the ocean, and even squinting against the glare of the sun along the water, it was no surprise to find Rex gazing back at him. In the sand Obi-Wan drew the charms Qui-Gon taught him with the same curls his parents had once used. Giving his heart to the Fair Folk in exchange for Anakin’s life had been his choice to make, but so was this. 

A shadow fell over his work, and Obi-Wan said, “What do you think?” 

Boba shook out his wet hair, his coat draped carelessly over one arm, and said, “It looks okay.” 

“Yes, I think so.” He passed over a towel as Boba sat on the other side of the charms. “Get tired of swimming?” 

Boba shrugged. In between Obi-Wan’s charms he drew in more, sand clinging to the tips of his fingers. “I wanted a break.” 

Obi-Wan kept his peace and let Boba work. If there was one lesson he taken from Anakin’s teenage years it was not to push. Boba, like Anakin, would come to him on in his own time or he wouldn’t come at all. Obi-Wan’s job was to respect his decision, whichever way it fell. 

“Are you hungry?” Obi-Wan asked, reaching towards the cooler. 

Boba shook his head and finished the final line for the charm for _belonging_. It was the one gracing the center of the doorway to the flat, and Boba drew it in the same way Rex did, with clear slanting lines. 

“We don’t really do this,” Boba said. 

“Do what?” Obi-Wan asked, although he could guess. 

“This.” Boba pointed to the charms, the sand, the entire area Rex had claimed. “I mean, we can, but it’s a lot of work.” 

“Yes, I imagine so.” 

“No,” Boba said, annoyed, “it’s _a lot_ of work. We don’t do it on, like, a whim or anything. We have to put some of ourselves in it.” 

Obi-Wan swallowed and said, amazed at how even his voice was, “It means he’s staying.” 

“Yeah.” Boba smoothed his fingers along the sleeve of his coat. “He likes you.” 

“I like him.” 

“No, he _likes_ —” Boba broke off when he caught sight of the smile Obi-Wan couldn’t stifle. “Oh, fuck you.” 

“I couldn’t resist.” 

Boba made a face. “Whatever. Just don’t, you know, lead him on or anything.” 

“I wouldn’t,” Obi-Wan said. Rex was close to shore, clearly worried about what he and Boba were discussing. “I won’t.” 

“Good.” Boba nodded decisively, so clearly Anahera’s son. He stood and brushed the sand off his coat. “I'm gonna go back in.” 

Obi-Wan was clearly meant to follow, and so he did, waiting politely at the water’s edge for Boba to put on his coat before wading in after him, hissing at the cold. 

“Don’t get excited,” he said to Rex, who swam lazily around him. “I'm not staying long.” 

He made that a lie, of course, and ended up floating peacefully on his back once the shock of the cold faded under the sun. There was no need to worry about the waves taking him too far out; occasionally Rex would nudge him back to shore. Once, he caught sight of a long shape under him, and when he dipped his hand down, the tips of his fingers dragged along what felt like a ridged fin. 

“Ahsoka?” he asked, and Rex snorted from where he was drifting beside him. 

After an hour, they all headed back to land. Obi-Wan went to gather towels as the Te Wiatas slid out of their seal skins and back into their human ones. Ahsoka walked out of the water, shaking her locs out. 

“Any more guesses?” she asked when Obi-Wan handed her a towel. 

“Not right now,” he said, “but I think I'm getting a better idea.” 

Obi-Wan had forgotten about the charms he’d drawn in the sand right up until the brothers came to a stop and, as if they had rehearsed it, looked to him in perfect unison. 

“It seemed appropriate,” Obi-Wan said. 

Rex cleared his throat. “No, it’s good. This helps it take.” 

“So you weren’t exaggerating,” Kix said into the silence that followed. 

“Welcome to the background radiation of my life,” Ahsoka said, opening the cooler and pulling out the sandwiches and drinks. 

“Could be worse,” Cody said, helping her unpack everything. “You never dealt with Obi-Wan before this.” 

“Perhaps,” Obi-Wan said tartly in the voice that sent more than one student scuttling for cover, “Rex and I should head back to the flat and leave you to gossip about us in peace.” 

“Nah,” said Fives. “It’s more fun when we get to see your reaction. Hey, Rex, wanna guess how red your ears are?” 

Rex snatched the sandwich from Fives’ hand. “This is my food you’re eating. Knock it off or go hungry.” 

“Okay, we’re sorry,” Echo said, taking the sandwich back. “We’ll leave you two alone with the feelings you’re not acknowledging.” 

Over Fives’ laughter, Rex said, “Do you remember the summer when you were fourteen and thought you were shrinking? Cody replaced your entire wardrobe with clothes two sizes bigger.” 

“That was you?” Fives said. “We made mum take us to hospital!” 

“Yeah, that was hilarious,” Cody said. “You even had a log to keep track of your height.” 

“How did you know about that?” Echo said. “Wait, were you changing the measurements?” 

“He also got to the measuring tapes,” Rex said. 

“I'm surprised you didn’t catch on,” Cody said, amused. “I thought you caught me with your little logbook one night.” 

“I thought it was just the nightmare about the seagulls again,” said Fives. 

“This was our entire childhoods, by the way,” Rex said to him. 

“I have to admit I am impressed by his dedication,” Obi-Wan said. And then, because Cody looked much too pleased with himself, added, “I know Quinlan appreciates that as well. Oh, that reminds me. How is he?” 

“How should I know?” Cody said, but it was far too late. The brothers’ had picked up the scent of blood in the water, and Ahsoka had propped her chin in her hands and was looking on in unabashed glee. 

“Didn’t you see him last night?” Obi-Wan added in the innocent tone that drove Anakin mad. “I thought was how you got the, you know,” he said, and gestured vaguely towards Cody’s hip. 

There was no visible mark and Cody was far too disciplined to fall for such an obvious trick, but his hand twitched, which was just as damning. 

“Holy shit,” Boba said. “Do you have a hickey?” 

“I did think you looked a bit stiff today,” Kix said. 

“Hey,” Ahsoka said, “be nice. We should be happy he somehow was able to convince this Quinlan to sleep with him. How long has it been again? I'm assuming we’re moving from months into years.” 

Over the laughter, Rex said quietly, “That was mean.” 

“I'm just keeping him on his toes,” Obi-Wan answered, and knocked his shoulder into Rex’s and then simply didn’t move away again. 

“You know I'm going to make you pay for this,” Cody said to him. 

“You’re certainly welcome to try,” Obi-Wan said. “But do give Quinlan my best when you see 

him this weekend.” 

That set them all off again, and it was some time before they subsided, and only because Cody’s expression progressed from contemplating murder to actively plotting it. Well, that and the fact he had got Fives in a headlock and refused to release him. 

The food and the warm sun lulled them into a soft and lazy silence. Nearly all of them had stretched out along the towels—Fives had pulled Boba in between him and Echo, and Boba was tolerating it with the poor grace of a disgruntled cat—but Obi-Wan and Rex stayed upright, leaning against each other and attempting to blink sleep from their eyes. It was a surprise Rex managed to stay awake, and almost helplessly Obi-Wan found himself studying the sweep of Rex’s eyelashes along his cheek. If Rex were in his seal skin, Obi-Wan would run a hand through his mane, but Rex was human and there were lines Obi-Wan was not allowed to cross. 

Ahsoka was stretched out along Rex’s side, aviators in place, so effortlessly chic that if Obi-Wan were ten years younger he would envy her terribly. He, perhaps, envied her a little now. She cleared her throat and lightly bumped her fist against Rex’s ankle. 

Rex twitched and frowned at Ahsoka, who gave him a pointed look over the rim of her aviators. 

“Something wrong?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“No.” Rex sighed before rolling back his shoulders and lifting his chin. “We have cousins in London.” 

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. “You never mentioned that.” 

When Rex hesitated, Cody said, “They live along the Thames. They’re selkies, too.” 

The word cousins, Obi-Wan had learned, held various meanings for the Te Wiatas. There were those who were cousins by blood and marriage or, as in Ahsoka’s case, had been adopted into the fold, and then there were those who qualified by the simple fact they were as the Te Wiatas were; all selkies were cousins, and the Te Wiatas took care of their own. 

“Yes, I had read the river ecosystem is recovering,” Obi-Wan said. “I didn’t know anyone returned to it.” 

“Selkies,” Cody said. “Some water sprites, a small god or two.” 

That was good news. The Thames had been thought dead for so long that most of the fae had abandoned it. 

“Our cousin, Keisha, she’s a good kid,” Rex said. “Smart. She’s in university now. Ahsoka and I met up with her a couple years ago when we were sent over in an exchange program.” 

“She knows I'm going back to uni for engineering,” said Ahsoka. “She had a teaching fellow a couple of years ago she really liked, and she put me in touch with him if I have any questions.” 

The Te Wiatas were watching him, close and careful, and Obi-Wan’s chest tightened around the space of his missing heart. 

Echo said, “Ahsoka thought I might like him. We have a few things in common.” He raised his prosthetic arm. “He’s got a lot of interesting ideas about the intersection of charms and functionality. No real sense of fashion, though.” 

Fives sighed. “Echo, if I didn’t step in you would have worn bowties every day last year.” 

Echo frowned. “I like bowties.” 

“Help me out here,” Fives said to his brothers. 

“I'm going to have to agree with Fives on this one,” said Kix, “and you know how much I hate doing that.” 

Fives made a rude gesture. 

“Yeah, no, bowties are awful,” Boba added. 

“Leave him alone,” Rex said. “He can wear whatever he wants.” 

“ _Thank you.”_

“Even if it does make him look like our eighty-nine year old grandfather.” 

“I hate all of you,” Echo said. 

Obi-Wan cleared his throat and they fell silent. “You talk to this man?” he asked. 

“Mostly about engines and girls, but yeah,” Ahsoka said, sitting up. “He’s a nice kid.” She hesitated, glancing at Rex, who nodded. “He talks about his family a lot and how he knows they worry about him, but they shouldn’t. He’s okay.” 

“He’s okay,” Obi-Wan repeated, and his voice sounded tinny and distant. 

Ahsoka reached out and took his hand. “Yeah, he’s doing just fine. He says he’s happy, for the most part.” 

“Keisha and her family will keep an eye on him,” Cody said, “make sure everything stays that way for him.” 

Obi-Wan nodded, and he didn’t know what his face was doing that made Rex rest a hand on the back of his neck, but he sucked in a breath at the comforting weight. 

“Hey,” Rex said softly, ducking his head to catch Obi-Wan’s gaze. “Everything is going to be okay. We got this.” 

The Te Wiatas took care of their own, and Obi-Wan was no longer alone. The relief cut neat and deep, and he closed his eyes against the clean pain of it. Anakin was all right and Obi-Wan didn’t have to worry. Rex had this. 

“Thank you,” he said, wiping at his damp eyes. “I don’t know how you—” 

“Don’t mention it,” Fives said. “Seriously, don’t.” 

Deals were delicate things and so easily broken, and so Obi-Wan said, “Of course.” 

“Okay,” Boba said loudly into the silence that fell. “This is weird. I'm gonna go.” He put his coat on and headed straight for the water, barking once when Cody tweaked his passing tail. 

“He doesn’t do well with genuine emotional moments,” Fives said. 

“You can barely handle them now,” Kix said. 

“I'm great at emotions.” 

“Eh,” said Echo, and tilted his prosthetic hand back and forth. 

“I am!” Fives insisted. “Just because you don’t like talking about _your_ feelings doesn’t mean I can’t handle it.” 

Echo frowned. “I talk about my feelings.” Fives scoffed. “You just refuse to listen.” 

“I'm going after Boba,” said Kix, and took his coat with him back to the water. 

“Cut it out,” said Ahsoka, sliding her aviators back on. “Just be happy you’re both better at feelings than Rex.” 

“Christ,” said Rex. “You really want to do this, Tano?” 

Ahsoka smiled, showing all her teeth, and said, “You know what, I kind of do.” 

Cody sighed sigh and tilted his head, eyebrows raised. Obi-Wan nodded, pushing himself to his feet. 

“Where are you going?” Rex asked. 

“We’re going for a walk,” Cody said before Obi-Wan could answer, “while you work this out amongst yourselves.” 

Rex frowned, and Obi-Wan said, “We won’t be long.” 

“Stay close.” 

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said, and brushed his knuckles along Rex’s shoulder. 

“We should have gone with Boba,” Fives said and then yelped, probably because Rex had lost patience and punched him in the arm. 

They rounded the rocks, and under his feet the threshold flickered, as if waving farewell. It acted differently to the one at the Te Wiata’s cove, which had deep roots. 

“It’s young,” said Cody, who always was able to follow Obi-Wan’s thoughts. “Give it a few years to settle into itself.” 

“I’ve never felt one being grown like this,” Obi-Wan said as they curved around a group of teenagers enjoying the last few days of their holiday break. Charms were used to weave a threshold over a home, but that required a resident to feel connected to the building. This was something completely different. 

“We’re one of the few who can,” Cody said, “and it’s not something we go into lightly. I told you. We guard the edges.” He glanced over, amused, and added, “And we have to want it.” 

“Is that what you’re doing with your cousins in London?” Obi-Wan asked, ignoring the last part. “Guarding an edge?” 

“Something like that. I asked you when this started what you knew about selkies.” 

“I remember.” 

“We’re not those stories,” Cody said. “We’re both human and fae, and there are obligations that come with that.” 

Obi-Wan turned that over in his head, and said, “You mean the old laws.” 

“Yes. We make sure the laws are satisfied.” Cody added, quiet, “There are ways open to us that are closed to you.” 

“You mother said the same, that there is more to you than your coats.” 

“That’s true of just about everyone,” said Cody. 

If the Fair Folk were as they had always been, unable to change or to grow, than perhaps the selkies were the inverse. They moved with the world and shaped themselves to it. They looked to the edges, where the lines between human and fae were thin and worn, and kept the peace. 

“You all right?” Cody asked as they looped back towards the others. 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. “Thank you for what you did.’ 

“You should be thanking Rex,” Cody said. “He worked it out.” 

Of course he had, Obi-Wan thought as they stepped back onto the threshold. The others had joined Kix and Boba back in the water, but Rex was waiting where Obi-Wan had left him. Of course it was him. 

Cody followed his gaze and said, exasperated, “Get your shit together. Ahsoka keeps threatening to lock you two in a room, and I'm not going to stop her.” 

“Did you ever think,” Obi-Wan said, “that perhaps you lot meddling in our business may be the problem?” 

Cody tilted his head to the side in thought before saying with the full confidence of an older brother, “No. You’re just bad at this.” 

“I take it back,” Obi-Wan said. “You are most certainly the problem.” 

Cody level Obi-Wan with a flat look, but for once he kept his thoughts to himself, joining his brothers out in the sea and leaving Obi-Wan alone with Rex. 

“Everything all right?” Rex asked as Obi-Wan took a seat next to him. 

“Yes,” he said, smiling at Rex’s poorly stifled yawn, “everything’s fine.” 

* * *

Ahsoka and the brothers took the bus back to the ferry, and Obi-Wan and Rex went home. The flat was cool and dark, and Obi-Wan abandoned the bags near the door, too tired and sun-drunk to deal with them now. 

Rex placed his folded coat in the chest and locked it. “You hungry?” he asked, slipping the key into his pocket. 

“Not particularly.” He followed Rex to the kitchen, leaning against the counter as Rex took stock of the refrigerator. It was only nearly full, which meant Rex would be going to the shops tomorrow. Obi-Wan would be insulted that every member of the Te Wiata family thought he was incapable of feeding himself if he didn’t find it so endearing. 

“I could make a salad,” Rex said. “We should eat the tomatoes before they go bad.” 

“Perhaps later.” He waited for Rex to stop fussing before saying, “Thank you for what you did.” 

Rex crossed his arms. “Mum did most of it, and my brothers helped a bit. Ahsoka took the lead at the end.” 

“That’s not what Cody said.” 

“You should know better than to listen to him,” Rex said, but his ears were red. “I told you I would help if I could, and I know you worry.” 

I adore you, Obi-Wan thought, giving in to the truth of it, undone. 

“Thank you,” he repeated, closing the distance between them. “If it matters, you’ve repaid me for saving your coat.” 

Rex looked briefly confused before shaking his head. “That’s not why I did it.” 

“I know.” He touched the curve of Rex’s shoulder, and Rex’s arms dropped. 

“I need to tell you something,” Rex said. 

“Oh?” He slid his hand up, following the muscle. 

“Do you remember the night we met? When you asked if you could release me from this?” Obi-Wan nodded. “You could have. I didn’t want you to.” 

Rex’s collar dipped down, and Obi-Wan rubbed his thumb over the bit of exposed skin. “Why?” 

Rex swallowed. “I liked you, and you looked…” 

“What?” Obi-Wan asked when Rex trailed off. “How did I look?” 

“Sad.” 

Well, Rex wasn’t wrong. 

Rex settled his hand lightly along his waist. “And I really didn’t want to sleep on Cody’s couch again.” 

“It is terribly uncomfortable, isn’t it?” Obi-Wan curved his hand to the back of Rex’s neck. “I'm glad you stayed.” 

“Yeah?” Rex asked, as if he didn’t know the answer, and so Obi-Wan kissed him. 

It was nice, as first kisses went, a little awkward and a bit clumsy as they learned one another, but then Rex touched the hairs curling along the nape of his neck, and oh, it was _good_. Obi-Wan sighed, letting it deepen, slow and easy. He couldn’t remember the last time he kissed someone like this. Years, at least. 

“Wait,” Rex said drawing back. “Do you want this?” 

Obi-Wan blinked, trying to ignore the tender buzz of his lips. “What?” 

“You don’t ever say what you want. You let Cody bully you into allowing me move in, you let me rearrange your kitchen—” 

“This is very obviously your kitchen now,” said Obi-Wan because he had given up puzzling out Rex’s organizational system. 

“You gave me your aunt’s chest for my coat,” Rex continued. “You let me drag you along to see my family, and you never complain that Ahsoka sleeps here three days out of seven.” 

“It’s more like five at this point.” He brushed his thumb along Rex’s jaw. “She’s your family. Of course she’s welcome here.” 

Frustrated, Rex said, “That’s the problem. You made a deal for your brother and uprooted your entire life. You saved my coat and went along with what that brought. I'm grateful, but I have no idea what you want _._ Just for yourself, Obi-Wan, what do you _want_?” 

What Obi-Wan wanted had seemed impossible—Anakin healthy and safe and happy, to stop mourning what he left behind, for Rex to touch him—but, somehow, here he was, in the kitchen of their home with Rex’s hands on him, and for the first time since the accident he wanted for nothing. 

“I wasn’t going to presume,” he said. “I don’t want you to do this out of some obligation because you think it’s the easiest way to repay me.” 

“You think I would use you like that?” Rex swept his thumb along the side of Obi-Wan’s neck. “And just to be clear, there is nothing easy about you.” 

There was a joke there, but Obi-Wan forwent it in favor of a dry, “Thank you. And in the spirit of clarity, then yes, I do want this. I want you, Rex.” 

“Oh,” Rex said, swallowing, “good.” 

And then they were kissing again, sharp with an edge of desperation, and Rex made a surprised noise as Obi-Wan’s teeth scrapped along his lower lip. Rex’s hand settled at the dip of his spine, pulling him close. 

“We should,” Rex said, breaking off as Obi-Wan pressed his mouth to his throat. “We should—oh.” 

Obi-Wan sucked a kiss there, mindful not to leave too obvious a mark. Rex’s breath caught, and Obi-Wan hid a smile in the soft skin under Rex’s jaw. 

“We should what?” he asked. 

Slipping his hand up and under Obi-Wan’s shirt, palm hot against his ribs, Rex said, “Not in the kitchen. Not this time.” 

Obi-Wan backed up, pulling Rex along with him. “May I take you to bed?” 

“Are you really asking for permission?” Rex said on a laugh, amused and fond. “Yeah, Obi-Wan, you can take me to bed.” 

They made slow progress, unwilling to let go of each other as they were. Obi-Wan rucked up Rex’s shirt, dragging his palms down the length of Rex’s back, feeling the shift of muscles as Rex finished stripping it off. He pressed his mouth to Rex’s shoulder, just as he imagined back on the beach that first time he realized how much he wanted. Salt from the ocean lingered, and Obi-Wan soothed it away. 

He was so intent upon it that he didn’t notice the shoes in his path until he was stumbling over them. It was only Rex’s grip on his waist that kept him from tumbling to the floor, and he frowned at the blue and pink trainers. 

“Whose are these?” he asked. They were far too small to belong to him or Rex. 

“Ahsoka’s.” 

“What are Ahsoka’s shoes doing here?” 

“She leaves her shit everywhere. Just be thankful she hasn’t started taking over the bathroom yet.” His fingers dipped under Obi-Wan’s waistband. “Here, I got you.” 

Obi-Wan let Rex steer him backwards, smiling when he realized Rex had neatly led him around a pair of discarded sandals and what was Echo’s jacket he kept forgetting to take with him. 

“Nicely done,” Obi-Wan said when they came to stop at his bed, which Obi-Wan hadn’t bothered to make that morning. He would be more embarrassed by that if it weren’t for Rex sliding his pants lower to run his fingers, light and teasing, along the cut of his hip. “May I?” He tugged on the drawstring of Rex’s board shorts. 

Rex nodded and Obi-Wan slid the knot free and pushed the shorts down and off, Rex kicking them away, and then he was naked, prick hard and curving towards his stomach. Obi-Wan laughed softly, wanting so much he hardly knew where to begin. 

“That’s not usually the reaction I go for,” Rex said, and it wasn’t just his ears flushed red now. 

“Sorry,” Obi-Wan said, leaning in for another kiss, apologetic. “I'm just happy.” 

“Well,” Rex said, edge of surprise in his voice, “then, uh, carry on.” 

Obi-Wan pressed his mouth to the arch of Rex’s cheek, the corner of his eye, his mouth, all the places he spent the last few weeks imagining. “I will,” he said, and took Rex’s prick in hand. 

Unlike him, Rex was uncut, and Obi-Wan stroked him slow, trying to learn what he liked best. Rex gasped against his mouth when Obi-Wan rubbed his thumb over the frenulum, and so he did it again. 

Rex’s hands were on his jaw, holding him in place for a deep kiss that left them both panting. “You’re still dressed,” Rex said, sharp noise in the back of his throat when Obi-Wan twisted his wrist on the next stroke. “Can I?” 

“Yes, please,” he said, and Rex near ripped the shirt over his head. His trousers came off easy, and then he stood bare before Rex. “Well?” 

Rex swallowed, and said, “You’re all right.” 

Obi-Wan laughed again, and, grasping Rex’s shoulders, fell back onto the bed, taking Rex with him. Their heads knocked together and Rex’s knee landed dangerously close to his tender bits. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Rex said, scrambling to keep his full weight off him. 

“I should have warned you,” Obi-Wan said, rubbing his temple. “If it helps, I pictured that going much more smoothly in my head.” 

“Could have gone worse. My ex accidentally threw an elbow once and broke my nose. We had to go to hospital.” 

Obi-Wan kissed the bridge of Rex’s nose. “I’ll do my best to avoid that.” 

“Much appreciated.” Rex pushed himself to his knees. “Come here.” 

They had landed at an awkward angle along the bed, and were forced to crawl up towards the pillows. It was a little undignified, but the best sex, in Obi-Wan’s experience, was always a bit absurd. 

Rex propped himself up against the pillows, pulling Obi-Wan close until there was no space left between them. Obi-Wan tilted his head back as Rex traced the tendon along his neck, each press of his mouth open and lush. Following the line of freckles along his collar bone, Rex bit down once, and Obi-Wan hissed at the sharp press of his teeth. 

“The first time I saw your freckles,” Rex said, swiping his tongue along the hollow of Obi-Wan’s throat, “you don’t know how badly I wanted to touch you.” 

He thought of Rex on the beach that night, skin lit up and warm from the fire, the way Rex had looked at him, and said, breathless, “I’ve some idea.” 

Curling his hands behind Rex’s ears, he tugged until Rex took the hint and slid back up, catching his mouth and licking into it, and Obi-Wan swallowed the noise Rex made. Rex rocked their hips together, and Obi-Wan groaned, letting Rex take and take until they were panting and desperate. 

“What do you want?” Rex said, shivering as Obi-Wan ran his nails along the back of Rex’s neck. “Tell me what you want.” 

Obi-Wan wanted a great many things. He wanted Rex laid out on his back, hands twisted in Obi-Wan’s hair as he sucked Rex until Rex couldn’t breathe because of how good Obi-Wan’s mouth felt on his prick. He wanted Rex’s mouth back on his throat and Rex’s hand on his cock. He wanted Rex however he could get him. 

“This,” he said, rolling over to scramble at his bedside table, sending yellow pads cascading to the floor as he dug out the tube of lubricant from underneath. He turned back over and curled a hand around Rex’s shoulder, tugging until Rex settled himself in the cradle of Obi-Wan’s hips. 

“Like this?” Rex asked, taking the lube from him. 

“For now.” Obi-Wan ran restless hands down Rex’s back. “We can try something more complicated next time.” 

“I'm not complaining.” Rex slicked them both up and gave an experimental roll of his hips that left Obi-Wan sucking in a sharp breath. “I'm a fan of the classics.” 

“Then, if you would be so kind, get on with it.” 

Rex chuckled, low and dark, and took them both in hand. Obi-Wan hooked his leg over Rex’s hip, holding him in place. It was good, and it had no right to be, not with the way Rex kept kissing him even as they lost the thread of it, everything gone hot and close. 

“I knew you’d be like this,” Rex said. 

“What, easy?” He was close, digging his nails into Rex’s shoulders. 

“Beautiful.” 

“Fuck,” Obi-Wan said, and came over both of them. 

His orgasm swept bright and hot through him, leaving him loose limbed and happy in its wake. Rex, flushed and wide eyed, stared down at him, and Obi-Wan met his gaze, unafraid, letting Rex see everything. 

“Here,” he said, and reached down to take Rex in hand. Rex shuddered and gave himself over. Obi-Wan stroked him tight and fast, nosing up under his jaw. “Let me,” he said, and put his teeth to the tender skin there, uncaring of the mark he left behind. 

Rex groaned as he came, and under his mouth Obi-Wan felt the dry click as Rex swallowed, all the tension bleeding from him. He fell to the side, forehead pressed to Obi-Wan’s shoulder, his arm over Obi-Wan’s middle, breath fanning hot over Obi-Wan’s skin. 

Obi-Wan ran gentle fingers over the short fuzz of Rex’s hair, content. They laid there, quiet but for the sound of their breathing slowing, and Obi-Wan thought that he didn’t want to be anywhere else, not in this moment, and was surprised when no pang of guilt followed. 

“We need to clean up,” Rex said, unmoving. 

“In a bit,” Obi-Wan said. “There’s no rush.” 

Rex pushed himself up on his elbows. “What are you thinking?” 

Outside he could hear the ocean, faint as it was. He pressed his thumb to the mark he made under Rex’s jaw and watched as Rex’s eyes went dark. “I'm thinking that next time I want you under me.” 

“We can do that. And after?” 

“We’ll need food at some point,” he answered. “And a shower. Then I thought we might perhaps see where the day takes us.” 

“I like that plan,” Rex said, and ducked his head to kiss him, easy and lazy. 

“Although,” Obi-Wan said later, when they broke apart, “you do realize we’ll have to deal with your family at some point.” 

Rex scrubbed a hand over his face. “Not if we never leave this bed.” 

“I'm not opposed to that.” 

“So about you being easy,” Rex said, amused. 

Obi-Wan swung a leg over Rex’s hips. “I believe you were the one who said nothing about me is easy.’ 

Rex palmed Obi-Wan’s hips. “I suppose you just have to prove me wrong.” 

Obi-Wan sighed, and said, put upon, “Well, if I must.” 

And, smiling, he leaned down to swallow the laughter from Rex’s mouth. 

* * *

The alarm sounded, and Rex groaned and pressed his face to the back of Obi-Wan’s neck. “Turn it off,” he said, accent made thicker with sleep. 

“I'm trying,” Obi-Wan said, groping for the alarm clock Anakin mocked him for owning, a task made difficult with Rex’s refusal to loosen the grip he had on Obi-Wan waist. He finally managed to silence the blasted thing, and felt more than heard Rex’s rumble of approval. Checking the time, he said, “I have to go in today. Department meeting.” 

Rex made a soft, protesting noise and pressed in closer. He was very warm, practically draped over Obi-Wan’s back as he was, and Obi-Wan was reluctant to pull away. It would be so easy to allow himself to drift back to sleep, lulled by the comfort of having Rex so close. 

“This meeting is mandatory,” he said, more as a reminder to himself than Rex. He tapped the back of Rex’s hand. “I'm afraid I have to go.” 

Rex heaved a forlorn sigh, but he let Obi-Wan slip free, rolling into the warm spot he left behind. They had kicked the sheets off last night, and Obi-Wan studied the flex of Rex’s back muscles and thought about climbing back into bed and drawing his tongue along the length of Rex’s spine, all the way down where he could lick into him. Rex would let him. Rex would _want_ him to. 

“You keep looking at me like that,” Rex said, one eye visible from where he had pressed his face into the pillow, “and you’re not going anywhere.” 

They had hardly left the bed the past three days, and then it was only to find food and have sex in various locations about the flat. Yesterday, Rex had tucked himself against Obi-Wan’s back and rocked into him slow and deep, refusing to be rushed, until Obi-Wan, desperate, had rolled Rex over and rode him until they both came. His thighs still burned from the effort. 

“I’ll be back this afternoon,” he said. 

“Good,” Rex said, and made a show of stretching, the bastard. “I’ll make us lunch.” 

He retreated to the bathroom before the temptation to put his mouth on Rex grew too much to resist. By the time he finished showering, the bed was empty. He quickly dressed and went to find Rex in the kitchen, still shirtless, yawning as he waited for the coffee to brew and the kettle to boil. 

“Hello,” Obi-Wan said, and pressed himself against Rex’s back, chin hooked over Rex’s shoulder. 

“Morning,” Rex said, and laced their fingers together. 

He kissed the side of Rex’s neck, quietly thrilled he could. “Are you going swimming?” 

“In a bit.” 

The one time they had left the flat was to go down to the beach early in the morning before anyone else arrived. There Rex slid into his seal skin and swam while Obi-Wan tended to the threshold and dozed on the sand, woken when Rex shook cold water over him. 

“Oh, very nice,” he’d said, but it lacked any real heat as Rex settled alongside him, yawning and already half asleep. 

That was how Dex caught them, Rex’s head pillowed on his thigh, Obi-Wan’s hand in his mane, both of them barely awake. Dex just gave a friendly nod and continued on his way. 

Careful not to dislodge him, Rex took a traveler mug from the cupboard, preparing Obi-Wan’s tea how he liked it best. 

“By the way you were acting earlier,” Obi-Wan said, amused, “I thought you wanted me to stay longer.” 

“You don’t have time for a cup now,” Rex answered. 

He glanced at the clock. “I have a little time before I need to leave.” 

Rex turned in his arms, one hand going into Obi-Wan’s hair, holding him still for a kiss that went from sweet and light to filthy in an astonishingly short amount of time. Rex’s breath was stale and sour and Obi-Wan’s jaw still ached from last night, and it had no business being as good as it was. Obi-Wan wanted to drown in it. 

“Right,” he said when they broke apart, disentangling from where he had wrapped himself around Rex. “I do not have time for a cup.” 

Rex smirked, smug. “Play nice at your meeting. Don’t end up on YouTube again.” 

“It happened once,” he protested. 

“Three times,” Rex said. “I’ve seen the videos. You were very impressive.” Obi-Wan’s frown was performative and didn’t last, not when Rex kissed him goodbye. “I’ll be here when you get back.” 

“I won’t be long,” he promised, and traveler mug in hand, left to go catch the ferry to the mainland. 

It was cool out, fog curling along the streets, and so he forwent the bus to walk down to the dock. He thought nothing of the fog growing thicker as he went—it often pooled at the bottom of the steep hill—as most of his attention was caught on the tender bruises Rex left along his collar bone and his inner thigh. His body ached, and it was wonderful. 

The last time he had spent days in bed just to fuck was when he was a post-grad. After Shmi had died, there was Anakin to look after, and with the exception of Satine, Obi-Wan had forgotten the simple pleasure of using his body for sex. He wasn’t young anymore, but Rex didn’t seem to have any complaints about his performance. Obi-Wan touched the bite mark on his collar bone. No, Rex seemed quite content with the state of things. 

It took him an embarrassing long time to become aware of movement along the nature trail that ran parallel to the road, and by the time he realized he could no longer hear the fantails in the bush or the sound of the sea, it had grown quiet, in the thick of the fog. He gripped the nail in his pocket, but he had been completely and neatly caught. 

The fog shaped itself into a woman and then again into a man. He drew in a lungful of air, but all he could smell was salt and wet leaves and the ocean. The tip of the nail pressed deep into his palm. 

The Patupaiarehe were pale skinned with red hair that tumbled and twisted around their faces when Obi-Wan took his gaze off it. They were short, he realized, as the woman drew near, barely reaching his shoulder. The man circled around to his left, hair just as red and skin just as pale. 

“You are with the selkie,” the woman said. Her voice was low and atonal, and Obi-Wan noted the freckles along her chin and the bridge of her nose. That was all he would remember of her later, the freckles and the color of her hair and the paleness of her skin. The shape of her face would slip from his memory, as if she and the fog were one and the same. 

“I am,” he answered. The Patupaiarehe were not the Fair Folk, but that did not make them any less dangerous. 

“It’s good to have him tending our shores.” She cocked her head to the side. “You tend to him.” 

He wore Rex’s marks on his body, and so he said, “I do.” 

“Your Fair Folk, she is coming for him.” It was not a threat but a mere statement of fact. 

“Why?” he asked, hand aching from gripping the nail tight. 

“They want to carve their way into our land,” she answered. “We have kept them out, but they are dying and that makes them desperate. Foolish. They wish to return to the old ways.” 

The Count had sighed when he swallowed Obi-Wan’s heart, eyes gone soft and half-lidded, as if Obi-Wan had given him a respite from the years. Men carried iron in their heads, and in the end the mounds were nothing but simple earth. 

The other Patupaiarehe placed a calloused hand on the back of his neck, either in warning or to hold him in place, Obi-Wan did not know. His grip was gentle, like how Rex would touch him, and Obi-Wan fought the urge to twist away. 

“They will drive us from our home and take what we leave to them,” she said. “They want to become.” 

“Become what?” 

“More than what they are.” She brushed the hair from her eyes, a human gesture. “We want her gone. You will see to it.” 

“Why me?” he asked as the Patupaiarehe pressed his fingers along Obi-Wan’s neck, as if he was testing the give of his skin. 

“Because she wants the selkie’s coat, and you do not want her to have it.” There was no inflection in her voice but what might have been a flicker of triumph to her gaze if she were human. “You will see her gone.” 

Obi-Wan knew the weight the Fair Folk lent to words, how they laid them as traps to snare the foolish and the brave. The Patupaiarehe were not the Fair Folk, that was true, but that did not make them kind or forgiving. 

But Rex made him tea and kissed him goodbye, and Obi-Wan only slept easy when he knew Rex’s coat was locked safe in the chest his twice great-aunt had carved for the woman she called her wife. 

“I will see to it,” he said, the edged words rising along his tongue like a brand. “I vow it.” 

The Patupaiarehe placed her hand over his half-heart, and said, “You will.” 

The other Patupaiarehe released him, and before they could return to the fog, Obi-Wan said, “Did I bring the Fair Folk here?” 

For the first time, the man spoke and said, “What would it matter if you did?” When Obi-Wan turned to face him, the Patupaiarehe tucked two long fingers under his chin. “Does it change your vow?” 

“No.” And then, the words bitter like iron in his mouth, he said, “Is it me? Am I the one bringing this down on everyone?” 

The Patupairehe was not human, but his touch was tender as he nudged Obi-Wan’s head back until his face was tilted to the sky. “You think all stories are about you,” he said as Obi-Wan’s eyes began to water. “You want so much, and because of this wanting you think you matter.” Obi-Wan was held still by the fingers curled around his chin. “She was brought here in an empty heart. Do you wish it to be yours? Will that give meaning to the story you tell yourself?” 

The denial shaped itself in his mouth, ill fitting, and he said, “I don’t know.” 

The Patupaiarehe stepped away. “You will see to it.” 

The sun burned through the fog, and when he was alone again Obi-Wan blinked the sunspots from his gaze and continued to the ferry. He took a seat in the cabin and pulled his aching hand from his pocket. There was blood on his palm; the point of the nail had broken the skin and he had bled onto the iron. He fished a tissue from his bag and pressed it to the wound, holding it tight until the bleeding slowed and then stopped. 

The tea had gone cold but Obi-Wan drank it anyway because he did not want Rex’s kindness to go unappreciated. When the ferry docked at Auckland, all that remained of the Patupaiarehe’s visit was the cut on his hand and the vow etched on his tongue. 

* * *

The first thing Anahera did was grasp him by the chin and say, “Show me.” 

Obi-Wan obligingly opened his mouth and, as undignified as it was, stuck out his tongue. He knew what it looked like, the delicately raised lines curling all along the length, even dipping underneath to creep along the frenulum. 

“Shit, kid,” Jango said. 

Obi-Wan gently pulled away from Anahera. “It was my choice.” 

Anahera glanced over to Rex, who said, “Don’t bother. We’ve already argued about this.” 

“We didn’t argue,” Obi-Wan said. It was more of a heated discussion, if even that, as they hadn’t raised their voices. 

They had talked themselves in circles—Rex of the firm opinion Obi-Wan should not have made any promises and Obi-Wan maintaining it was his choice to make—and they spent the last few days carefully avoiding the conversation. 

“It’s done now,” Anahera said. “We’ll deal with it.” 

She then proceeded to pace around the flat, inspecting their threshold with a discerning eye while Rex, arms crossed over his chest, watched with a perfectly stoic expression. 

“This is better than I was expecting,” she said. “The iron shavings are a nice touch.” 

“Ahsoka’s idea,” Rex said. 

She came to a stop by the chest, and after glancing to him for permission, she knelt and drew careful fingers along the charms and the iron lock. 

“This is fine work,” Anahera said. “I can see why Ahsoka is so enthusiastic about it. Thank you, Obi-Wan.” 

“I was only using it as storage,” Obi-Wan answered, aware of Jango’s gaze on him and the way Rex’s ears were steadily turning crimson. “This seemed like a much better use for it.” 

“I can’t argue with that,” she said, and while her expression was unfailingly polite it made Rex bristle. Cody, Obi-Wan thought, was definitely her son. “Don’t make that face at me, my boy. It’s a compliment.” 

“Now that you’ve seen the place,” Rex said, clearly unconvinced of her sincerity, “you should head back before it gets too late.” 

“I wasn’t aware we were finished here,” Anahera said, standing. 

“Christ,” Jango said, and scrubbed a hand over her face. “Here we go.” 

“We’re staying,” said Rex. 

“It’s safer at home, for both of you.” She tilted her head meaningfully towards Obi-Wan, which only made Rex’s expression settle in stubborn lines. Obi-Wan felt a headache start to come on. 

“It’s best for us here,” Rex said. “I made sure of it. You weren’t this worried after the break-in.” 

“That was before the Patupaiarehe were involved and before Obi-Wan made a damn vow to them!” 

When Obi-Wan went to interject, Jango shook his head, and said, “Trust me, you do not want to get in the middle of that. Best to let them sort it out. You got any coffee?” 

Anahera and Rex’s voices dropped as they moved towards Rex’s room, the door shutting firmly behind them. Obi-Wan couldn’t remember if they aired it out that morning. 

“Rex has always taken after his mother more than me,” Jango continued as Obi-Wan hit the switch and the coffee machine gurgled to life. “They look after everyone and hate being told what to do. You should have heard the row they had when Rex enlisted.” 

“I imagine it lasted for hours,” said Obi-Wan, who vividly remembered the arguments his own family had. They were all too stubborn for their own good, Shmi liked to say. 

“Try weeks.” Jango winced as Anahera’s said something in Te Reo, sharp enough it carried from the bedroom. Obi-Wan couldn’t make out Rex’s answer, but it made Jango sigh again. “I was terrified about having kids, worried they would get lost or hurt or that I would fuck up and ruin them. And then they all had to take after their mother, and I had a something even bigger to worry about. That’s the thing about being a parent, you know. You do your best to make sure they have everything need, that they’re safe and happy, and then at some point you have to let them out in the world and hoped you raised them well.” 

Obi-Wan took the milk from the refrigerator. When Shmi died, he’d allowed himself one night of getting horrifically drunk and confessing to Satine that he was frightened of getting it wrong and that Anakin would hate him. 

“You are going to get it wrong,” she told him after he spent an hour laying on the cool tile next to the toilet and desperately trying not to vomit, “but he could never hate you.” 

“I won’t let her get his coat,” Obi-Wan said, and felt the ridges along his tongue, his vow made flesh. “I promise.” 

“Hell, kid,” Jango said, sounding equal parts tired and amused, “that’s the only thing in this whole mess we know for sure.” 

There was a perfunctory knock on the door before Ahsoka let herself it. 

“They still going at it?” she asked. She dropped a duffle bag against the wall and kicked off her sandals next to the door where Obi-Wan had pointedly placed her trainers and the ballet flats he discovered under the sofa. 

“They’ve only just warmed up,” Jango said, lifting the coffee pot as it finished brewing. “Coffee?” 

“Yeah, thanks,” she said, and Obi-Wan got down her favorite mug, a striped number that he hadn’t questioned when he discovered it next to Rex’s. He took down Rex’s mug as well and the ones they kept for guests. 

“You know where the sugar is,” he said, and Ahsoka stepped around Jango to pull it out. 

Anahera and Rex’s argument rose and fell in peaks and valleys, and Obi-Wan only caught the odd word and a few fragmented sentences, but none of it was particularly encouraging. 

“I mean, I knew this is where Rex gets it from,” Ahsoka said after a particular outburst left them all wincing, “but _damn.”_

__

“It was worse when he was a teenager,” Jango said. “Boba is a dream compared to him.” 

Obi-Wan tried to picture it, a teenage Rex filled with the usual amount of angst, slouching and sullen in turns, but it was difficult because Rex was Rex, steady and confident, unflappable as Shmi had been. 

“He can’t have been that bad,” he said. 

Jango and Ahsoka gave him matching incredulous looks. 

“Remind me to tell you what the enlisted men said about him sometime,” Ahsoka said. 

“I would actually like to know,” Obi-Wan said, and set about making himself a cup of tea. Rex tended to avoid talking about his service, and Obi-Wan was terribly curious. 

Before Ahsoka could do more than raise her eyebrows, the bedroom door opened and Anahera, said, exasperated, “Why are you fighting me on this? You know it’s safer with us. You’re doing good work here, but our threshold is older and stronger. And you’re not moving back permanently. It’s just temporary until we get this mess sorted.” 

Rex pushed past her, and Obi-Wan could read the tension in the set of his shoulders. He resisted the urge to go to him. Jango was right; this was between mother and son. 

“Boba is there,” Rex said, an odd note of defeat to his voice. “I won’t drag him into this.” 

That gave Anahera pause, and she carefully closed the distance between them. “What do you mean?” 

Rex’s jaw flexed. “It’s bad enough you and dad are involved, but I'm won’t put this on Boba, too. This is my mistake. I’ll fix it.” 

“Sweetheart,” Anahera said, reaching for him, “do you think this is your fault?” 

Rex twitched away. “I should have been paying more attention on the ferry. How many times did you tell us our coats are our life? I should never have let it get this bad.” 

All this time, Obi-Wan thought, Rex had been shouldering his own guilt and he had never known. 

Anahera cupped his cheek. “It’s not your fault. It could have been any of us. It’s just bad luck it was you and not me or any of your brothers. Well, it probably would have been Fives. Thank god for Echo or he would have lost his coat a dozen times over.” 

Rex snorted. 

“Hey,” she said softly, lifting Rex’s chin so their gazes met. “I want you and your brothers to be safe, but I never meant for you to feel like you’re alone in this. You’re a good man, but you take too much on yourself.” She rose up on her toes and touched their foreheads together. “You didn’t do this. We’ll figure it out together, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Rex agreed, and eased back. He blinked at the three of them in the kitchen, seemingly becoming aware of them for the first time. 

“I made coffee,” Obi-Wan said briskly, unwilling to give Rex the time to be embarrassed. He poured a cup and added milk and a generous spoonful of sugar, just how Rex liked it. “Here, before it gets cold.” 

“Thanks,” Rex said quietly, coming to stand next to him. Their hands brushed as Obi-Wan passed the cup over. 

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said, just as soft. Their shoulders bumped together, and neither one of them moved away. 

Jango cleared his throat. “I have a compromise. You’re both obviously set on staying here, but considering the circumstances, having backup might not be a bad idea.” 

“Backup,” Obi-Wan repeated, gaze cutting to Ahsoka. The duffle bag she brought began to make a terrible amount of sense. 

“Safety in numbers,” Ahsoka said cheerfully. “We’ve drafted a schedule for shifts. You get me tonight and Cody is coming by tomorrow.” 

“You already had this planned,” Anahera said, just shy of accusing. “Why did you let us argue?” 

Jango shrugged. “You always feel better when you get it out of your system.” 

She and Rex shared a look, but neither protested. 

“It’s not a bad idea,” Anahera conceded. 

“Yes, it is,” Rex said. 

“It’s either this or you come home,” Jango said. “Your pick, kid.” 

When it looked like Rex was going to argue, Obi-Wan lovingly elbowed his ribs and said, “We’ll make it work.” 

“And,” Ahsoka said, smiling beatifically, “you won’t have to make up the couch. You have a spare bed now.” 

“Christ,” Rex said, and scrubbed a hand over his face. 

“Oh, are you dating?” Anahera asked, looking pleased. Obi-Wan felt a telling flush creep up the back of his neck. “I had thought your room smelled stale. When this is over we’ll have you over to a proper dinner, Obi-Wan.” 

“That would be lovely,” he said, ignoring Rex’s appalled look. 

“I even found the photo albums Boba hid,” Jango added. “We’ll make a night of it.” 

Over Rex’s sigh, Obi-Wan said, “I look forward to it.” 

* * *

Obi-Wan woke before the alarm, and he turned it off before it could sound. Rolling onto his back, careful so as not to wake Rex, he gave the light seeping around the curtains a baleful glare. And to think when he was a student he actually believed professors enjoyed giving morning lectures. 

Beyond their bedroom door the flat was quiet, which meant Fives and Echo were still sleeping, and with any they wouldn’t awaken until after he left for the day. He liked Rex’s family, but after a month of rotating members staying with them, patience and tempers were beginning to fray. 

“What time is it?” Rex said when Obi-Wan pushed the covers back. 

“Early,” he said. “Go back to sleep.” 

Because Rex could be a contrary bastard on occasion, he glanced at the clock. “Alarm didn’t go off,” he said, and slung an arm around Obi-Wan’s waist. 

“I was trying to get to the bathroom before your brothers,” Obi-Wan said, having learned the hard way that Echo would use all the hot water. 

“They’ll be out for another couple hours.” 

He allowed himself to be pulled back down, and he ran a hand through Rex’s hair, which had grown long enough to just begin to curl over his fingers. 

“You’re going to need to cut it soon,” Obi-Wan said idly, “unless you’re planning on growing it out.” 

“Haven’t decided. It’s easier to keep it short.” 

“I like it longer.” He drew his nails along the curve of Rex’s skull, smiling as Rex pressed into the touch. “It gives me something to hold on to.” 

“Jesus,” Rex said on a laugh, pulling back to meet Obi-Wan’s gaze. “You’re shameless.” 

“I just know what I like.” He drew his foot up Rex’s calf. “And I like you.” 

“I couldn’t tell,” Rex said dryly, but his ears were steadily turning red, and Obi-Wan pressed his lips to the right one. “Shameless,” he repeated, and caught Obi-Wan’s mouth in a slow kiss. It was sweet despite their sour breath, and Obi-Wan was content to let it spool out slow and easy. There was no urgency now, here in their bed, just the two of them enjoying each other. 

“Huh,” Rex said, drawing back. 

“What is it?” 

“Your vow,” Rex said, and Obi-Wan resisted the urge to scrape his teeth along the raised lines of his tongue. “It feels different.” 

The first time they kissed after he gained it, Rex had touched his thumb to the corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth and said, “I can feel it, what you did for me.” 

“Different how?” Obi-Wan asked. “Bad?” 

“No.” Rex frowned. “Just different.” 

He curled his tongue, but it felt no different than it did a month ago when he first made the vow, but then Obi-Wan was only human. 

“It’s probably nothing,” Rex said, as if they both didn’t know better. “Just morning breath.” 

“Oh, very nice,” Obi-Wan said, shoving Rex onto his back and swinging a leg over his hips, one hand on Rex’s chest to steady himself. Under his palm he felt Rex’s heartbeat tick up. “You’re not exactly fresh yourself.” 

“I didn’t say it bothered me.” Rex slid his hands under Obi-Wan’s shirt and along his ribs. 

“Nice recovery,” he said dryly, but he let still leaned down for another kiss, Rex teasing his mouth open. He touched Rex’s jaw, and savored the sweet shiver of arousal down his spine. Easing back, he swept a thumb along the red of Rex’s lips. 

“Hey,” Rex said, soft-eyed. 

“Hello,” he replied, amused. “What time is it now?” 

“No idea,” Rex said, sitting up. Obi-Wan shifted backwards, sliding one hand to the back of Rex’s neck, loathe to move any further away than he had to. “But you should get moving before it gets too late.” 

“Mm-hm,” he agreed, drawing his nails along the skin behind Rex’s ear. “In a minute.” 

Rex plucked at the drawstring to his sleep pants, and said, “We only have time for quick and dirty.” 

“I’ve no objections,” he said, mouth hovering above Rex’s, not quite touching, enjoying the sting of anticipation. 

Which was, of course, when Fives banged a fist on the door and said, “Stop having sex and come make us breakfast!” 

Rex scowled. “Fuck off!” 

“I'm just looking out for you,” Fives called back. “And tell Obi-Wan he’s going to be late if he doesn’t get up right now.” 

Obi-Wan sighed but moved from Rex’s lap. “I'm not sure how I feel about your brothers knowing my schedule.” 

“You should hate it,” Rex said, grabbing his mobile from the bedside table. “But you do need to get ready.” 

“And I once thought professors actually looked forward to class,” Obi-Wan said, standing. He redid the knot on his drawstring and straightened his shirt, although it wouldn’t fool the twins, a theory proven correct as he opened the door to Fives’ smirk. 

“Good morning,” he said, closing the door so as to spare Rex for another few minutes. 

“Oh, I'm sure it is,” Fives said. Echo was in the kitchen poking forlornly at the coffee maker. 

“You’re up early,” he added, stepping around Fives to get to the bathroom. 

“Someone has to be responsible and make sure you get to work on time,” said Fives, as if Obi-Wan hadn’t been witness to Cody and Rex’s numerous complainants about their younger brothers’ sleeping habits. 

“He just enjoys tormenting Rex,” Echo said around a yawn. 

“Hey,” Fives protested, “that’s not why I'm doing this. Well, not the only reason.” 

Obi-Wan took advantage of their distraction to get to the bathroom. By the time he finished showering and dressing, Rex was at the stove making eggs and thoroughly ignoring his brothers. 

“Tea’s ready,” Rex said, nodding towards the steam gently curling from Obi-Wan’s favorite mug. 

The twins clutched their own cups of coffee close. Echo looked marginally more awake, and around a yawn that Obi-Wan was surprised didn’t pop his jaw, he said, “What class do you have today?” 

Obi-Wan pulled out plates and silverware. Rex insisted on taking meals at the table, and the one time he caught Obi-Wan eating his breakfast of tea and toast at the counter had given him such a deeply disappointed look that Obi-Wan had, without conscious thought, slunk to the table in an attempt to escape the shame. 

“I have Introduction to Gothic literature this morning,” he answered, nudging Fives’ elbows off the table so he could set down the silverware, “and then my graduate seminar on fae narrative tradition of Old and Middle English.” 

“That sounds awful,” Fives said. 

“It is,” Obi-Wan agreed cheerfully. “I'm making them translate from the original Middle English.” 

“How do you convince anyone to take your classes?” Rex asked, dividing up the eggs. The toaster popped, and a piece was added to each plate. 

“Well, I’ve been reliably informed I'm not tragic looking for a white man.” 

Rex passed him a plate and said, “You’re all right.” 

“You’re not too terrible yourself,” Obi-Wan replied. 

“I think I liked it better when you were pretending you didn’t have feelings,” Echo said from the table. 

“Yeah,” Fives added, “stop flirting and give me my food.” 

“ _Your_ food?” Rex said. 

“You know what I mean.” When Rex stared him down, Fives rolled his eyes and said, “Please.” 

Mollified, Rex handed over the plates to his brothers, who fell silent now that they had breakfast. Obi-Wan kept one eye on the clock as he ate, finishing off his tea in one go with a few minutes to spare. 

“I’ll walk you out,” Rex said. Without looking, he jabbed a finger in his brothers’ direction. “Don’t say a word.” 

“Who, us?” Echo asked, guileless. “We would never.” 

“That innocent act hasn’t worked since that time you managed to trap Kix under the bed,” Rex said. 

“He wanted to go exploring,” Fives said. 

“The more I learn about your family,” Obi-Wan said as Rex shepherded him out the door, “the sorrier I feel for Kix.” 

“Don’t,” Rex said. “He can handle himself.” 

They stopped just inside the street door as Rex hadn’t bothered to put on any shoes. There was a chill in the air, and Obi-Wan shouldn’t find Rex’s attempts at not shivering through sheer stubborn determination to be as endearing as he did. 

“Go back inside,” he said. 

“I'm fine,” Rex answered. “I don’t like you taking the ferry alone.” 

There had been talk of escorting him onto the ferry and then to campus, but given that he was not, in fact, a prisoner, he had put an end to that quickly. Besides, he was not the one the Fair Folk were after. 

“I’ll be fine,” he said, and pulled the iron nail from his pocket. “I’ve dealt with them before.” 

“That’s not as comforting as you think it is,” Rex said, giving in with a sigh. “It’s supposed to storm later.” 

“I’ll be back before that.” 

Ahsoka had sent him a link to the weather report accompanied by a frowning emoiji. 

“Be careful,” Rex added. 

“I will,” Obi-Wan said, and touched gentle fingers to Rex’s jaw, drawing him in to a kiss he let linger, sweet. “Now stop pretending you’re not catching a chill and go back inside. And do try not to kill your brothers.” 

“I make no promises,” Rex said, pressed one last off-center kiss to Obi-Wan’s mouth before nudging him out the door. 

He crossed to the bus stop, as he had promised not to walk to the dock alone. He took the ferry to Auckland, where he was met by Cody, who had another cup of tea waiting for him in the car as they drove to the campus. 

“One day you’re going to need to get your license,” Cody said. 

“I don’t see why I should when I have you,” he answered, which earned him a exasperated look as they pulled into Cody’s assigned faculty spot. 

His morning lecture went well. They were still early enough in the term that he hadn’t assigned any of the more rigorous texts, which he was saving until after the first paper. His graduate seminar was another matter, and he was met with resigned groans that made him smile. There were at least two students who he was certain had sworn a blood feud against him, which was always an excellent indicator of a particularly lively and engaged group. Katooni had admitted that by the end of the first class she had hated him with a depth she had not known she was capable of, and she was easily his most impressive student. He was quite looking forward to her thesis defense preparation; he was expecting nothing less than several imaginative and heartfelt death threats. 

After assigning their reading and translation for next week, he returned to find his office door open and Ahsoka with her feet propped up on his desk as she scrolled through her mobile. 

“Are you looking up more jokes?” he asked. She found the worst seal jokes and puns the internet had to offer and sprang them on Rex when his guard was down. According to Boba, Rex was never caught unawares as this game had been going on as long as Boba could remember. 

“I found some promising ones,” she answered. 

He tapped her ankle on his way past, and she dropped her feet to the floor. “Did you pick my office lock?” 

“First of all, your lock is broken,” she said. “And second of all, if it wasn’t, then yes, I could.” 

“Let me guess, you learned so you could impress girls.” 

“Obviously.” 

“And how often has the fact that you can pick locks come up in conversation with said girls?” 

“None,” she admitted, “but it’s bound to at some point, and I am prepared.” 

“Of course you are,” he said. “I'm assuming you’re here to escort me back home?” 

Ahsoka nodded. “I'm taking over for Fives and Echo, unless Rex has killed them.” 

“Not yet, but it was a near thing this morning.” 

“They’re such shits,” Ahsoka said fondly. She glanced up at his lone window. “Did you see the weather report?” 

“The one you sent me three times this morning? I did.” 

“I sent it twice,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “It’s supposed to be bad. I’d feel better if we made it back before it rolls in.” 

His office hours were over for the week, and besides a few department emails that didn’t warrant a response, he had nothing pressing that required his attention. Besides, the odds of Rex committing fratricide the longer he was left alone with his brothers was worryingly high. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” he said, and Ahsoka swung herself to her feet in one smooth motion. 

“After you,” she said. 

As Obi-Wan closed the door behind him, Quinlan stuck his head out from Cody’s office, and said, “Hey, Kenobi, you heading out?” 

“Quinlan,” he said. Ahsoka’s head whipped around. “I am. What are you doing down here?” 

“I wanted Cody’s thoughts on my grant proposal,” Quinlan answered. “Do you mind taking a look at it when you have a chance? I know how you feel about proper citation.” 

“Email it to me,” Obi-Wan answered, leaning around the doorway to see Cody gazing back with an aggressively blank face. “Oh, I don’t mean to be rude. Quinlan, this is Ahsoka. She’s a family friend of Cody’s.” 

Cody’s left eyebrow very gently twitched. 

“Are you really?” Quinlan asked, gleeful, and offered his hand. “It’s so good to meet you.” 

Ahsoka, nearly vibrating in place with a delight to match Quinlan’s, said, “I am. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you. Cody never talks about you.” 

“He doesn’t talk about you either,” Quinlan answered. 

“It’s because you’re both awful people who I regret knowing,” Cody said without missing a beat. 

“He’s a sweet talker,” said Ahsoka. 

“That’s how he won me over.” The look Quinlan slid Cody was nearly fond. 

What was even more interesting was that Cody didn’t offer a rebuke, instead turning his attention back to his computer and presumably Quinlan’s proposal. 

Ahsoka glanced between Quinlan and Cody and said, “Let’s get coffee later. We have a lot to talk about.” 

“I'm free this weekend,” Quinlan said. Cody cleared his throat. “I'm mostly free this weekend,” he amended, and Cody studiously ignored the look Obi-Wan gave him. “Call me and we’ll set up a time. Cody has my number.” 

“No, I don’t,” said Cody. 

“Yes, you do,” Quinlan retorted. 

“I’ll get it out of him,” Ahsoka said. “See you later, Cody.” 

There was more than a hint of threat in that, and knowing the Te Wiatas’ inability to let anyone have the last word, Obi-Wan said, “Have a nice evening. Get home safe,” and towed Ahsoka away. 

“So that’s Quinlan,” she said as they cut across campus. Her thumbs moved quickly over her mobile. “He seems nice. Friendly.” 

“And he doesn’t deserve whatever it is you’re planning,” Obi-Wan said. But then he thought of how Quinlan liked to casually drop into his introduction lectures and argue semantics with first years who didn’t know better, and added, “Probably.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I would just like to get to know him. He has to be something special if Cody’s dating him.” 

“You almost said that with a straight face,” Obi-Wan said. He could see the bus coming, and he and Ahsoka quickened their steps. 

“I was doing good up until the dating part. Has Cody admitted to that yet?” 

Obi-Wan snorted. “Of course not. He barely acknowledges he knows who Quinlan is.” 

“I’m not surprised. I'm pretty sure Kix is the only emotionally mature one in the bunch.” She pointed a stern finger at him. “And do not say Rex is because we both know that’s a lie.” 

Obi-Wan considered the last few months and said, “We do all right.” 

Her eyebrows were deeply judgmental, but the bus pulled up as the first heavy raindrops began to fall, and they abandoned the topic in favor of swiping their passes and finding free seats. 

The rain was falling steadily by the time they made it to the dock, and they huddled with the few other passengers under the overhang. The sea was churning, waves cresting higher, tips gone white. 

“I don’t like this,” Ahsoka said quietly as the ferry pulled in. “It feels off.” 

“Off how?” Obi-Wan asked, but she shook her head and didn’t answer. 

Onboard, they sat at the far end of the cabin with their backs to the wall. Ahsoka, restlessly turning her mobile over in her hands, kept looking out over the dark, rough water. Obi-Wan touched the tip of his tongue to his top lip and felt the weight of the vow pressing heavily down. 

Despite the waves, the motion of the ferry was smooth and soothing. He blinked, unaccountably tired, but then he had missed his afternoon tea. Rex would have a cup waiting for him and coffee for Ahsoka, and when Obi-Wan, tired and aching, leaned into him, Rex would settle a hand along the back of his neck to keep him level. 

“Hey,” Ahsoka said, curling a hand around his wrist, “Obi-Wan.” 

“Hm?” he said, and fought to open his eyes; early morning or not, he should not be this exhausted. 

Thunder rolled over the ferry, distant despite the bruised color of the sky. 

Ahsoka tightened her grip. “Something’s wrong. I can’t think _.”_

The air was heavy and wet from the storm, but underneath it, slow like fog upon the road, was the creeping damp of the bog. The smell clung to the seats and the carpet and to his throat with each breath he took. 

With effort, Obi-Wan reached into his pocket and touched the iron nail. “Ahsoka,” he said, pricking his finger upon the point, “she’s here. I need you to—” 

Ahsoka’s eyes had gone dark and deep, gazing up and past him. 

The thrum of the engine changed as the ferry made port at Waiheke, and Obi-Wan looked upon the Fair Folk. Her skin was pale and her hair dark, and her limbs were long and slender, like those belonging to a dancer, but her fingers, thin and tapered, gave her away. 

“Hello,” she said. “I believe it’s time we talked.” 

* * *

The Fair Folk were beautiful, as a matter of course, but their beauty was that of a butterfly pinned and affixed under glass, eternal and unchanging. Men were small things with small lives, who aged and died, pitiable compared to the Fair Folk’s unbroken lineage. 

And yet it was men, with their small lives and their plain and pitted skin, who taught themselves to carry iron in their heads and who shaped themselves to the world. If men were careless and cruel, and they often were more than they were not, they at least paid the price for being so. 

The Fair Folk, who never pressed empty palms to the ruts grief carved in their ribs or suffered the sharp tang of joy sparking upon their tongues, bent the world to their whims and had no need to forge themselves anew. They were now as they had always been and could not smell the rot upon their skin. They retreated to their mounds, spoiled and decaying deals sewn in the linings of their mouths, and there they waited, ageless, for time to come full circle and return the world to their clever tongues. 

* * *

She was beautiful, as all her kind were, but it was the fragile beauty of old parchment, peeling and cracking from the years. The slightest breath upon her skin would send her crumbling into dust. She had lingered too long. 

“You can call me Sing,” she said, sitting across from them. 

“Sing,” he repeated. It was not her true name, for she would not concede that power to him. “You’ve been following us.” Carefully, he eased the nail from his pocket, hidden in the clench of his fist. “You were in my lectures and your broke into our home.” 

“You’re interesting.” She cocked her head to the side. “I can taste us upon you.” 

“Can you?” he asked. His heart did not sit in her belly; she did not know the lengths he would go. 

“You made a deal.” 

He looked to the other passengers, at how silent they were, pliant. There was a tightness to the corners of Sing’s eyes, and the single furrow to her brow ruined the easy perfection of her skin. The effort of upholding the glamour was nearly too much for her. 

“I did,” he answered. 

“You’re a curious thing,” she said, as if he was a pet who learned the trick of opening the food cupboard. “You’re attached to the selkie.” 

Ahsoka’s nails dug into his wrist. His tongue burned, the vow crackling along his soft palate. He nodded, for he was attached to Rex and Rex to him. 

“Good,” she said. The ferry rocked gently as they finished docking. “You’ll help me get his coat.” 

“ _No_ ,” Ahsoka ground out, grip tight and painful. Her eyes had gone completely dark, and sweat was gathered along her hairline. 

“It’s all right,” Sing soothed. “I’ve worked it all out. This is how I can stay.” 

Ahsoka bared her teeth in defiance, but Obi-Wan could see her fighting to keep from sinking beneath the glamour again. 

“Stop,” Obi-Wan said, not above pleading. “Let her go.” 

“It wouldn’t hurt if she didn’t fight it.” She sounded genuinely bewildered by Ahsoka’s struggle. 

“Go fuck yourself,” Ahsoka snarled. 

“You think you can stop me?” Sing smiled, gently amused. “Little sprite, you have no idea what I’ve done to get here.” She turned her attention back to him, and Obi-Wan felt her glamour settle upon his skin like pricks of a needle. “I need you to come with me.” 

“If I do,” he told Sing, “you will let her go.” 

Sing flicked a disinterested look to Ahsoka, and said, “If I must.” 

“You must.” 

“Don’t,” Ahsoka said, the word sounding like it was scrapped from her. “I won’t let you.” 

“It’s going to be all right,” he said quietly, and gently eased his wrist from her grip. “This isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with them.” Her hand between both of his, he folded her fingers around the iron nail marked with his blood and watched as her eyes, dark as the sea outside, cleared. “Do you remember the day we went cliff jumping?” 

“Yeah,” she said. “We brought you to the beach where Rex and I—” her gaze cut to Sing. “You know.” 

“You gave my brother back to me,” he said, and squeezed her hand, “and I won’t let her take yours from you.” 

She tucked her fist close to her chest, and said, “We’ll find you.” 

“I know you will.” And then he stood and said, “Shall we?” 

“After you,” Sing said, and together they walked past where the men and women sat, unmoving, and out into the rain. The terminal was empty but for a bored attendant who barely glanced at them before turning his attention back to his mobile. 

“I won’t take you to him,” Obi-Wan said. 

“I don’t expect you to,” Sing said. “The sprite will call the selkie, and he’ll come to us, and he will trade his coat for your return.” 

Obi-Wan held the door open for Sing to step through. She waited for him, and then together they started along the road that would take them into town. His umbrella was in his bag that was back with Ahsoka, and the rain slicked down his hair and slipped under his collar, shockingly warm. He ignored it and kept walking. 

“Was it for love, your deal?” Sing asked as they climbed a hill. “It usually is. Sometimes it’s for power or money, but in the end you lot always do it for love.” 

“I suppose we do,” Obi-Wan said. The nature trail ran parallel to the road, and he blinked the rain out of his eyes, trying to spot where the two intersected. “Better to have loved and lost and all that.” 

“But you don’t lose,” she answered. “That’s why you come to us. You want them found. You want to win.” 

“Well, we are only human. Not that you lot would understand that.” 

Sing scrapped her wet hair from her cheek and did not reply. 

“I am curious,” he continued as they made their slow way up the hill. “How did you get here? The land doesn’t let you in.” 

Sing was silent for such a long moment that Obi-Wan thought she would not answer, and then she said, “There was a woman who wanted to be loved, and so she came to us. She drank from our river and ate of our fruit, and in return we took her heart. I carved a place for myself in her empty chest, and she carried me across the sea and to this place where no one knows us. It had no choice but to give me entry.” 

A heart like his, the Patupaiarehe had said, but one that did not belong to him. The realization brought no relief. He looked upon Sing, beautiful even with the rain flattening her hair against her small skull; all stories were about want, and men and Fair Folk both wanted so much. 

They came upon where the path crossed the road. “You can’t stay here,” he said, and stepped onto the trail. His foot sunk into the mud, but he made his choice and there was nothing for it but to see it through, no matter the cost it carried. “The land won’t let you.” He considered her, the pinched corners of her mouth, the length of her fingers, the starved points of her check. “That’s why you need his coat.” 

“It loves them,” she said, the faintest sneer to the word, “and if it forced me to go I would take the selkie with me, and it won’t allow that.” 

“I won’t let that happen,” Obi-Wan said. And then, the vow smoldering hotly along his tongue, he ran. 

His feet sunk the mud and he scratched the skin of his palms as he grabbed onto trees to pull himself free. He ran, rainwater gathering in his open, gasping mouth, the heat of the vow burning it away. 

Sing followed close behind, quiet but for her panting breath as the mud sucked at her feet. He chanced a look back only once to see her so close she could have caught him about the throat. He ran only because she allowed it, relishing in the chase, secure in the knowledge that there was nowhere he could go that she would not find him. 

When at last he came upon the trail that led to the cliff, he stumbled to a stop, hand pressed to the pain in his side. His left ankle was tender and aching from where he clipped a root, and in his mouth his tongue lay hot and swollen. Above them thunder cracked the sky open, the storm a wild thing with him and Sing at its center. 

She said, “Did that make you feel better?” 

“Yes,” he said, barely managing to form the word. 

“This won’t change anything.” The cliff edge was ahead of them, cloaked by the rain. “He will trade his coat for your life.” 

“Why?” 

Her eyebrows rose. “For love, of course. Isn’t that why you men do anything?” 

His tongue felt foreign, an invasive parasite in his mouth. “No. Why did you come? This is not your home.” 

The effort of shaping the words left him gasping, hurt. 

For the first time, surprise skittered across Sing’s perfect face, even as she braced a hand under his shoulder and helped him limp forward. 

“There’s nothing left for us,” she said, a bitter twist to her mouth. “You men took everything, even our words, and now we wait for the few who come to beg us for a deal. I won’t live like that.” 

Obi-Wan knew the stories told of the Fair Folk, of what was given and what was stolen, of the truth laid as snares, the hidden edges filed into each word. But what he knew best was that the Fair Folk had no stories of their own. They needed men to tell them who they were, and when men grew tired of their beauty and their cleverness, they would become nothing at all. 

Each word an agony, Obi-Wan said, “You wanted my home and my life once, and I gave it to you for love. But I came here and I made myself a new one, and you can’t have it.” 

They came to the edge, and Sing touched her thumb to the corner of his mouth. “But I can,” she said, “and I will.” 

The vow was a living thing, writhing along his tongue, sharp and angry and vengeful. She hissed as it bit her, recoiling. 

“No,” he said, and wrapped his hands around her long, tapered fingers. “I will see to it.” 

And then, mouth on fire, he stepped off the ledge, Sing’s hands clutched tight in his, and together they tumbled down into the churning sea. 

* * *

This was one final truth: what was given could not be returned and what was stolen could not last, but tend to those spaces sown empty by sorrow and perhaps one day pale green sprouts would push up into the light. 

* * *

It hurt when they hit the water, Sing ripped from his grip as they sank. Obi-Wan kicked desperately towards what he hoped was the surface, the current clawing at his ankles and legs, its work made easier by the sodden weight of his clothes. 

He broke free of the waves, and he sucked in a quick breath before he was drawn under again. Struggling upward, he managed to kick off his left shoe and then his right. It helped, and as he bobbed up he caught a quick glance of a dark smudge that might be land before another wave crested over his head. With no other option, he angled towards it. 

It was nearly impossible to cover any distance as he was tossed about, trying to grab air when he could before he was forced back under the waves. He choked on mouthfuls of seawater that stung the raw lines of the vow. The beach was there, as was the threshold Rex and Ahsoka had so faithfully tended to, and he had to believe he could reach it and be safe. 

He swam until his throat was scoured clean by the salt and his shoulders howled at the strain of each stroke forward. The seawater left him half-blind, and still he swam until the smudge formed itself into the shore. Despite the leaden hooks exhaustion sunk into him, Obi-Wan felt the threshold reach for him, and he let himself hope. 

A hand wrapped around his ankle; he was pulled under. Sing scrambled desperately at his legs, his waist, his shoulders. Her nails scored his neck as they kicked back up. 

“What did you do?” she wailed. 

Her pale skin had gone colorless and dull and her dark hair no longer fell about a face grown long and pointed, alien. Her eyes were set too far apart and were wild with panic and confusion, and under his touch her skin was soft like mud, and like mud his fingers sank into it. 

She forced him down again, wrapping her long, grasping limbs about him. His head clenched between her hands, she opened her small and sharp mouth, revealing nothing but an empty darkness. 

Obi-Wan scrambled uselessly against her hold, his chest jerking against the urge to draw in a breath. She pulled his face close to hers, thumbs to his temples, mouth pressed to his closed lips, waiting. 

His body took over, and just as he breathed in that first lungful of water, Sing was ripped away. It was Ahsoka, locs streaming behind her, with a long, serpentine tail and the sharp spokes of a fin running along her spine. She coiled about Sing, dragging her deeper into the water, and grinned up at Obi-Wan with a mouthful of teeth. Her right fist was clenched tight about the nail as she and Sing sank out of sight. 

Obi-Wan breathed in the sea. It hurt. His body wouldn’t move, and turned his face up, cast adrift, lost. 

Something hit him hard, forcing him towards the surface. There was rain against his face, and the air caught in his throat sent his chest jerking so hard it threatened to send him back under. 

A sharp bark right beside his ear shocked him to attention, and he found himself staring into the dark eyes of a seal. The seal’s muzzle nudged his cheek, and Obi-Wan looped his arms about its neck, clinging weakly as it brought him to the shore. 

He had enough mind to turn his face to the side as he was dragged up onto the beach, open mouthed and gagging. 

“Oh shit,” someone said above him. It was Boba, pulling him further onto the sand. The threshold sang under him, desperate. “Oh fuck, please don’t be dead. Hey! Over here! I have him!” 

There were hands on him, and Boba said, “He’s not breathing.” 

“Roll him over,” another brother said. Kix, Obi-Wan’s mind supplied, although the thought came from very far away. 

“Don’t you fucking do this. I can’t tell your brother you died. I won’t.” 

That was Rex, and Obi-Wan wanted to reach for him, feel him alive and safe under his palms, but his body was a weight that was slipping away, and Obi-Wan didn’t fight to hold on to it. It was a relief to set it down. 

There was a sharp crack of pressure along his sternum, jolting him even as it forced the water up and out. 

“Get him onto his side,” Kix said. 

He vomited seawater. It streamed from his nose and his throat, his body jerking with each wretch until it felt like his joints would shudder apart. The acrid tang of bile flooded his mouth, and he spit it out, sucking in large gulps of air. The effort left him weak, and he would have collapsed face down into the sand if Rex hadn’t caught him. 

“Easy,” Rex said. “That’s it. Just breathe. I got you.” 

Carefully, as if Obi-Wan was something fragile and precious, Rex eased him over with shaking hands. Rain streamed off his nose and along his collarbone, beautiful in the way the Fair Folk could never be, messy and flawed and real. Obi-Wan adored every part of him. 

“Do you know,” he said, the words thick and unwieldy on his damaged tongue, “I wasn’t certain that would work.” 

“Oh my god,” Boba said, and Obi-Wan blinked up at him and Kix. Behind them stood the twins, and over Rex’s shoulder he could see the Te Wiatas in their seal skins come upon the shore, where they stood on two legs, their coats draped over arms and shoulders, slick with rain. 

Rex touched their foreheads together. “I'm so angry with you.” 

“I know.” He curled a hand around Rex’s wrist, holding on. “But I promised.” The rain eased and the storm moved on, and Obi-Wan allowed himself this one moment, Rex held against him, safe and dear. 

“Rex,” Kix said. “Mum needs us.” 

Rex pulled back, the sweep of his thumb along Obi-Wan’s brow gentle. “Can you stand?” 

He nodded, and Rex on one side and Kix on the other, Obi-Wan got his feet under him, swaying dangerously before Rex wrapped a steadying arm around his waist. Boba hovering nervously to their left and Fives and Echo to their right, they made their slow way to where Anahera, with Cody at her shoulder, stood along the water’s edge. 

“Where’s Ahsoka?” he asked. 

No sooner had he voiced the question before Ahsoka emerged from the waves, her eyes dark and unblinking as she looked to him and Rex. Within the long unfurling coils of her tail, the scales smooth and bright like newly minted coins and polished glass, sat Sing, hands clasped before her and head held high. 

She was a small thing, made smaller as Ahsoka, shedding her scales and her fins, brought her to stand before Anahera. The two women gazed upon each other, before Sing sighed and said, “What will you do with me?” 

“I don’t know,” Anahera answered. “You came to my home and you tried to take my son and you nearly drowned another. If you were me, what would you do?” 

“We would offer you a deal to give you everything you wanted, and you would take it because your kind hungers so. And when it came time to settle your debt, we would keep you so you could love us, always.” Sing smiled and spread her hands, the joints of her fingers bent and crooked. “But I am not you and I have nothing to offer.” 

“There are laws,” Anahera said. “I should send you back to your mound.” 

Sing’s face twisted. “There’s nothing for me there. I won’t go.” 

Anahera considered her for a long moment before saying, “Obi-Wan, if you would be so kind.” 

With Rex half-supporting him, Obi-Wan went to her. 

“Let me see,” she said. 

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, wincing as the wet air coiled along the tender burn of the vow. 

She touched gentle fingers to his jaw and said, “You saw to it.” 

“I did,” he answered, and looked to Sing. He expected to see defiance in the tilt of her mouth or catch a prideful jut of her jaw, but instead he found her small and hollowed, nearly pitiable. 

“Can she change?” Anahera asked him. 

“She is what we all are,” Obi-Wan said, because that was true for all of them, selkie and fae and human alike. 

“There’s a price to be paid,” Cody said, not unkind. 

“There always is,” Anahera replied. Slow and careful, she took Sing’s empty hands in her own. “But we also deserve the chance at something more. Do you agree?” 

“Yes,” Sing said and withdrew from Anahera’s touch. 

“Give me your name.” 

Sing leaned in close, her mouth shaping the sounds of it. 

“Now then,” Anahera said, tucking two fingers under the point of Sing’s chin, “let us see what you become.” 

She pressed a kiss over Sing’s left eye and then her right, and Sing turned her face to the sky, sighing as her body softened and collapsed into saltwater that spilled through Anahera’s fingers and washed out to sea. 

“That’s settled.” She brushed the wet fringe from Obi-Wan’s eyes, and said, “Now let’s get you both home.” 

* * *

Rex was gone when Obi-Wan woke, and he took the opportunity to stretch out in the small bed. They spent the first night in the flat, him and Rex in their bed while the rest of the family took the spare room and the sofa and whatever bit of floor was available. 

“Don’t look so surprised, kid,” Jango had said. “We’re all in this together.” 

The next day Wolffe arrived with his boat and ferried them over to the mainland and the Te Wiata family home, where he and Rex ended up in Rex’s childhood room, negotiating elbows and knees because the thought of spending the night in separate beds was untenable. 

“It’s only for a few days,” Rex had said, although who he was trying to reassure, himself or Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan couldn’t say. “Mum just wants to keep an eye on us until it’s all dealt with.” 

“I suppose this is preferable to having your brothers right outside our bedroom door,” Obi-Wan said and helped Rex make up the bed. 

The house was quiet, and Obi-Wan found Jango in the kitchen at the stove, humming tonelessly as he turned off the burner. 

“Morning,” Jango said. “I made eggs. How’s the mouth?” 

“It’s better, thank you,” he said, pleased when there was no slur to the words. 

His mouth still felt new and tender, as if all the soft tissue had been scraped away. The first two days he couldn’t manage any solid food, and Anahera had sent Kix and Boba to the shops to buy various fruits and juices to make smoothies. 

“Rex left you some tea,” Jango said, handing him a plate with eggs and toast. “You know where the milk is.” 

“Have they all gone?” Obi-Wan asked, carrying cup and plate to the table where Jango had already folded open the morning paper. 

“It’s just us humans.” 

He took a small, careful bite of his toast. “Is it serious?” 

“It always is.” Jango took a sip of his coffee and made a face before adding another spoonful of sugar. Obi-Wan hid his smile; like father like son. “But it’s nothing worth getting worked up over. Anahera settled it. This is just the fae equivalent of making sure the paperwork is filed.” 

Jango would know better than him, and so Obi-Wan turned his attention to his breakfast. He ate slowly so as not to irritate his tongue, and by the time he was finished Jango had set the newspaper aside, gaze solemn as he considered Obi-Wan. Perhaps if Obi-Wan were braver he would ask what Jango saw in him, but he was what he was, and so he finished the rest of his eggs as he waited. 

“I found where Boba hid the photo albums,” Jango finally said. “Want to see the kid’s baby pictures?” 

“Absolutely,” Obi-Wan said, and Jango’s grin was a sight to behold. 

That was how Rex found them, side by side at the table with their heads bent over the latest album. Jango had brought out a towering armful, and they had only made their way through about a quarter of them by the time the Te Wiatas returned, clattering into the kitchen where Boba headed straight for the refrigerator while Jango kicked out a chair for Echo, who gratefully took a seat, cane neatly hooked over the chair back. 

The rest of the brothers were slower to appear, and Rex took one look at them and said, “I thought you said you hid them.” 

“I did,” Boba said, head in the refrigerator. 

“In the back of your closet,” Jango answered, turning a page to reveal a teenage Rex sitting between the twins and Kix, his head in a book. “You didn’t even try.” 

“I taught you better that that,” Ahsoka said, and Boba made a rude gesture in her direction, which she ignored. “I think this belongs to you.” She held out the nail, washed clean of his blood. 

“Thank you,” he said, tucking it back in his pocket. “I think I figured out what you are.” 

“I should hope so,” she said, “or you are much stupider than I thought.” 

“You’re a daughter of Mami Wata,” he answered. “You watch the seas.” 

Ahsoka smiled with all her teeth, and said, “You’re not so dumb.” 

Rex snorted, and Obi-Wan said mildly, “Is there something you would like to contribute?” 

“Oh, not right now, there isn’t,” Anahera said before Rex could even open his mouth. She nudged his ribs before moving to lean over Jango’s shoulder. “Where’s the one where he tried to catch a fish? That’s my favorite.” 

“Christ,” Rex said, and he most likely would have turned and walked out if Cody hadn’t clapped him on the shoulder and said, “You knew this was coming.” 

Obi-Wan propped his chin on his hand. “You were a very cute child.” 

It was the truth; in his seal skin, Rex was all large, serious eyes and flippers too big for his body. As a boy, Rex was much the same, round cheeks and those distinctive Te Wiata eyebrows over those same serious eyes and a shock of blonde hair that had barely darkened with age. He got that from his father’s side of the family, Jango had explained. Obi-Wan had been enamored of a photo of Rex on the lap of his paternal grandmother as she read to him, their blond heads haloed by the setting sun. Nearly every picture past the age of five featured Rex with his nose in a book, studiously ignoring his brothers’ antics. If Obi-Wan hadn’t already been so taken with Rex, this would have been his downfall. 

“Have you gotten to his teenage years yet?” Kix asked, snatching the juice from Boba before he could drink straight from the carton. 

“Remember the hair?” Echo said. 

“Like I could forget,” said Fives. 

“I remember the sorry thing he called a beard,” Cody said. 

“You had a beard?” Obi-Wan asked, delighted. 

“He attempted a beard,” Cody corrected, pulling cups from the cupboard. “It was more of a performance art piece stuck to his face.” 

“Do any of you want to go down the road of unfortunate facial hair decisions?” Rex said. “ _Fives?”_

__

“Hey, I make this look good,” Fives protested, stroking his goatee. 

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” Ahsoka said. 

“I think we’ll save the rest for another day,” Jango said, closing the album. He tilted his head back to catch the kiss Anhera dropped to the corner of his mouth. “All right?” 

“All right,” she answered, and brushed an affectionate thumb over his lower lip. “The laws are satisfied.” 

“The Patupaiarehe send their regards,” Cody said as he took a seat on Obi-Wan’s other side. 

Obi-Wan noted the flex of Rex’s jaw and touched his tongue tip to his teeth. He would carry the Patupaiarehe’s regard for the rest of his life. 

“And they can have mine,” he said, which was just presumptuous enough to make Cody smile. 

Around him the brothers bickered and teased each other, encouraged by Ahsoka, who enjoyed playing the role of provocateur far too much. Jango and Anhera were holding their own quiet conversation, their intimacy soft and easy from their years together, and across the table Rex cleared his throat. 

“I think,” Obi-Wan said, “it’s time we went home.” 

Cody said, “The car’s outside whenever you’re ready.” 

Obi-Wan met Rex’s gaze; they were ready. 

* * *

Their threshold was warm and welcoming, and Obi-Wan let it soothe him as he leaned against the door in order to catch his breath. The fall into the water had left him battered and bruised, but not so much that he couldn’t argue against going to hospital. 

When Rex had looked to him, Kix said, “He didn’t break anything, and there was less water in his lungs than I was expecting. He probably won’t die.” He added in a low mutter, “But what do I know? I haven’t finished my pre-clinicals yet.” 

“I prefer not to have strangers prod me,” Obi-Wan had said, and judging by how the stubborn jut of Rex’s jaw softened, he’d missed the dry tone he was aiming for and landed on something closer to exhausted honesty. 

“If it gets worse,” Rex said. 

“I’ll even let you carry me there,” Obi-Wan agreed. 

It hadn’t gotten worse, but he was sore and tired, and as grateful as he was for Jango and Anahera’s hospitality, he longed for his own bed and the quiet of the flat. Neither of which, he thought as he noted the tension strung tight along Rex’s shoulders as he locked his coat in the chest, he was likely to get just yet. 

“Are you hungry?” Rex asked, and didn’t wait for an answer before going straight to the kitchen. He frowned into the open refrigerator. “I’ll need to go to the shops later.” 

“Let me make a list,” Obi-Wan said. 

“I can handle it,” Rex said. 

Obi-Wan swallowed a sigh and leaned against the counter. “I think perhaps we should talk.” 

Rex turned, arms crossed over his chest, and Obi-Wan fought the urge to smooth his hands over Rex’s shoulders and up his neck, tender and dear. Rex did not want to be soothed, and Obi-Wan would do a poor job of it anyway. 

“I know you’re angry—” 

“Of course I'm angry,” Rex snapped. “We had a plan. Ahsoka would find you and we were going to get you. All you had to do was wait.” 

“I beg your pardon,” Obi-Wan said, “but I was supposed to just wait for you to give her your coat?” 

“I wasn’t going to—” Rex broke off, frustrated. “We were coming for you.” 

“I know you were,” he said, and thought of the nail with his blood clenched in Ahsoka’s fist. “But I couldn’t risk her getting to you first.” 

“So you decided to jump off a fucking cliff—” 

“You make it sound so dramatic. It’s the same one you and your brothers dove off of.” 

“—in a storm!You nearly drowned!” 

“It’s for _tourists.”_

“Christ,” Rex said. “You have to know how insane that’s sounds.” 

“Oh, for god’s sake. Cut the melodrama,” he said, and immediately regretted the words as Rex’s expression shuttered to a terrible blankness. 

“She had you,” Rex said, staring to the left of Obi-Wan’s ear. “You weren’t breathing, and I thought maybe she had taken the rest of your heart. I thought you were dead.” 

Obi-Wan lived a small life, full of small joys and larger sorrows, the same as everyone got, and he had given that life in a deal, because he had wanted so much for Anakin to live. He was as he had always been, and he slowly and carefully built himself a new life, full of those same joys and sorrows, but this one was his _,_ and he would do whatever was needed to keep it. 

“I'm sorry,” he said, closing the distance between them. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it.” 

Rex’s let his arms drop, but his expression remained closed. 

“I wasn’t going to bring her back here,” he continued, waving a hand to encompass the charms over the door, their unmade bed with Shmi’s quilt folded at the bottom, the bafflingly number of Ahsoka’s shoes piled by the door, Echo’s jacket that he kept forgetting to take with him, the great sum of their home. “I wasn’t going to let her get to you or your family.” 

Rex made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “We can take of ourselves. That’s what we do. We keep—” 

“The edges, I know,” Obi-Wan said. 

“Then why didn’t you trust me to help you?” 

Oh, he thought, shit. Qui-Gon always did say his tendency to focus on the smaller details meant he missed the obvious. 

He took a steadying breath and said, “I lived here almost three years and I never could get the charms to take. You know what the threshold was like, but then you came along and, well, you can feel what it’s like now.” He shrugged, helpless and disarmed. “You’re important to me, and I’d do about anything to keep you safe.” 

“Christ,” Rex repeated in a completely different tone of voice, and then he was cupping Obi-Wan’s face, catching his mouth in a desperate kiss. Obi-Wan hissed, partly in surprise and partly at the pain of Rex’s teeth catching tender along his lower lip. “Sorry,” Rex said, gentling it until their lips were barely brushing. “I'm still mad at you.” 

“I would be surprised if you weren’t,” he said, gripping Rex by the hips, trying to deepen the press of their mouths, but Rex kept it so soft they might as well not be touching at all. He kissed the corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth, a barely there pressure that frustrated more than soothed. 

“I got you,” Rex said when Obi-Wan ran restless fingers along the nape of Rex’s neck. He gently kissed Obi-Wan’s cheek, the hinge of his jaw, the dip below his lip. 

Obi-Wan didn’t want sweet or slow or tender. He spun them so Rex was backed up against the counter and dropped to his knees. 

“What are you doing?” Rex said. 

Obi-Wan undid the top button of Rex’s trousers. “I'm fairly certain it’s obvious.” 

“But your mouth,” said Rex, catching Obi-Wan’s hands. 

“I'm fine,” he said, barely containing the frustration from spilling into the words. 

“Hey.” Rex squeezed his fingers. “I know it’s healing, but you could barely talk four days ago. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

He had been hurt, his tongue red and blistered and swollen from the saltwater. It was healing better than to be expected, a mercy from the Patupaiarehe for fulfilling the vow, but he would carry the scars for the rest of his life. The Patupaiarehe may have asked this of him, but it was his choice to make, and Obi-Wan chose Rex. 

“You won’t,” he said, and pressed an open mouth kiss to the skin under Rex’s navel. “I want this. I want you, for myself.” 

“Oh,” Rex said, and let Obi-Wan pull his hands free. 

Obi-Wan smiled and eased the zipper down. Rex was only half hard, and it didn’t take much to bring him the rest of the way there. 

Obi-Wan lowered his head, and Rex said, “Just be care— _fuck.”_

Obi-Wan swallowed him down. It stung, his mouth tender and bruised, but it was good and it was _his._ Rex knotted his hands in Obi-Wan’s hair and held on as Obi-Wan sucked him until his jaw ached and Rex was making desperate noises in the back of his throat. 

“Wait,” he said, tugging, and Obi-Wan reluctantly pulled off, stroking Rex fast and hard until he came. 

Obi-Wan mouthed leisurely along Rex’s hip as Rex panted above him, undone. His mouth felt sore and used and wonderful. 

“Get up here,” Rex said, pulling Obi-Wan upright. Obi-Wan winced; he was no longer twenty and the tile was unforgiving on his knees. “Your mouth,” Rex said, but it was much too low and warm for a reprimand, and Rex dragged his thumb along the bow of Obi-Wan’s lip. 

Obi-Wan touched his tongue to the tip of Rex’s thumb, and Rex inhaled sharply. He gripped Obi-Wan’s chin and kissed him with none of the softness from before, so deep and desperate that Obi-Wan ached with it. 

Rex undid his trousers, and Obi-Wan made a sharp noise as Rex fisted his prick. “I got you,” Rex said, and kissed him again. 

It didn’t take long, and Obi-Wan came with Rex’s tongue in his mouth. 

Obi-Wan was the one who gentled the kiss then, letting it linger soft and sweet until Rex pulled away. 

“You’re important to me, too,” Rex said quietly, the words meant only for them. 

“I know,” Obi-Wan answered, and pressed their foreheads together, content. 

* * *

Later, after they put themselves to rights, Rex said, “I wasn’t planning on giving her my coat.” 

“I thought as much,” he said, wincing at the sore stretch of his mouth. Rex noticed and fetched an icepack from the freezer, wrapping it in a tea towel before placing it against his jaw. Obi-Wan doubted it would do much, but he humored Rex and held it in place. 

“But I would have,” Rex added, “if there was no other choice.” 

Obi-Wan thought of Anakin in the hospital bed, his prosthetic set on the wrong side. Sometimes there was no choice at all, but you made it all the same. 

“I wasn’t going to give her the rest of my heart, even if she had been interested in it,” Obi-Wan said. “Now my pancreas, on the other hand.” 

“You’re such a shit.” 

“It plays a very important role in regulating insulin,” Obi-Wan continued. “I’d risk becoming diabetic for you.” 

“It’s good to know I rate so highly,” Rex said dryly. 

Obi-Wan lowered the icepack. “I do trust you. I knew you would find me. I just had to figure out a way to get to you.” 

“By jumping off a cliff.” There was no heat behind the words, and Rex added, rueful, “I can’t believe it worked.” 

“Of course it did,” Obi-Wan said with all the confidence he didn’t feel that day. “You’re a selkie. There’s nowhere else I’d be safer.” 

Rex’s face softened, and he said, “I need to tell you something.” 

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. 

“The day on the ferry when you saved my coat, do you know why I was distracted?” 

“You were on your mobile,” Obi-Wan answered. “I assume you were in the middle of a conversation.” 

“I was texting Ahsoka,” Rex answered, his ears gone a bright red. “I was telling her about you.” 

He blinked. “Me?” 

“I’d noticed you.” Rex ducked his head. “She wanted me to pick you up.” 

“That certainly explains several of her earlier comments,” he said. “Were you going to talk to me?” 

“I hadn’t decided, but probably, yeah. How could I not?” 

“I adore you,” Obi-Wan said, unplanned but true all the same. 

“Yeah?” Rex said, a thread of wonder to it, as if he had hoped. 

Obi-Wan touched Rex’s jaw and said, “How could I not?” 

“You, too.” Rex smiled, and added, “Icepack.” 

“It’s not actually doing anything,” he said, but he obediently held it against his jaw. Relationships required compromise, after all. 

* * *

Contrary to Obi-Wan’s best intentions, they arrived at the airport an hour before Anakin’s flight was scheduled to land. Rex bought cups of tea from a cart and pulled out two books from his bag. The one he handed to Obi-Wan had a dragon on the cover. 

“I should be grading,” Obi-Wan said pointedly because Rex had firmly vetoed that back at the flat. 

“No, you should not,” Rex said, opening his book and smoothing down the page. “Those kids don’t deserve whatever marks you’re likely to give them.” 

That was fair, Obi-Wan was forced to admit. He could not be objective, not with the nerves twisting in his stomach. 

“This looks terrible,” Obi-Wan finally said, opening the book. There was a misuse of a semi-colon in the first paragraph. 

“It is absolutely terrible,” Rex said. “It’s the perfect distraction for you.” 

The fact he desperately needed a distraction went unsaid. He had spent the past month deep cleaning the flat and rearranging what was going to be Anakin’s room half a dozen times. Rex had helped without complaint, although Obi-Wan knew Rex was just as nervous, if the various experiments he undertook in the kitchen were anything to go by. 

“What’s his favorite food?” Rex had asked, tapping his pen against the list he was making. 

“Anything deep fried and covered in sugar,” Obi-Wan had answered. Rex frowned, and he added, “He likes bread. There was a bakery near us that he went to every week.” 

Rex had made dough that morning, kneading it as Obi-Wan aired out the spare room, and he left it to rise as they went to the mainland. When they returned, all Rex would need to do was put it in the oven to bake. 

Obi-Wan worried the corner of the page, folding it over and then smoothing it flat again. Without looking up from his book, Rex took his hand, and said, “He’ll be here soon.” 

“Yes, of course,” Obi-Wan answered, because Anakin had sent a selfie of himself during his layover in Vancouver Airport, eyes tired and hair a mess, but grinning brightly. 

The day after the deal expired, when Rex confirmed that both he and the Fair Folk had satisfied the agreed upon terms, Obi-Wan sat at their kitchen table and accepted a video call from Anakin. 

“I'm not gonna lie,” Anakin said, “I was kind of hoping you were going to wear the shirt Fives gave you. Ahsoka says it’s hideous.” 

“Hello, Anakin,” he said dryly. “It’s nice to speak with you, too.” 

“Hi,” Anakin said, grinning. “It’s really good to see you.” 

“You look well,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin did. His hair was long enough to brush his collar and his face was leaner, jaw dusted with a sad excuse for facial hair, but Obi-Wan would know him anywhere. “I like the beard. I assume it is a beard and not something you glued to your face.” 

“I was trying something new. It didn’t work. We can’t all have your weird mutant gene that lets us grow a beard in like two days.” 

“The world would be a better place if we could,” he said, and heard Rex’s amused snort from the bedroom where he retreated to give Obi-Wan privacy. “I'm so glad to see you.” 

“Yeah,” Anakin said, his voice thick. “You, too. I really miss you.” 

“I’ve missed you. You have no idea how—is that a scar?” 

“What? No,” Anakin said, casually rubbing his left brow. “What were you saying?” 

Obi-Wan peered at the screen. There was a scar bisecting Anakin’s left eyebrow, skipping over his eye to cut a neat line down his cheek. “What happened?” 

“It’s nothing,” Anakin said. 

“That’s not nothing. Did you get into a fight?” 

“ _No_ ,” Anakin said. “And I'm offended you immediately assumed that. Who would I even fight?” 

“Well, I don’t know. You’ve never got on with authority figures.” 

“I'm going to take that as a compliment,” Anakin said. “And just because I picked a fight one time—” 

“I got called to your school more than once.” 

“ _One time_ doesn’t mean I go around challenging anyone to meet me out back at sunrise. Come on, who do you think you’re talking to?” 

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. 

“I fell in the shower,” Anakin said, sulking. “I hit my head on the edge of the faucet and had to get stitches. Happy now?” 

“Were you singing again? Oh, excuse me, _performing_?” 

“Oh my god,” Anakin groaned. “That was one time and I was drunk. Are you ever going to let that go?” 

“I definitely am not,” he said. 

“I take it back,” Anakin said, rolling his eyes, so familiar and dear that Obi-Wan could weep with gratitude for having him returned. “I didn’t miss you at all.” 

The book was absolutely awful and the perfect distraction, just as Rex predicted it would be, and Obi-Wan had read several chapters before he even thought to check the arrival board. Anakin’s flight had landed, and Obi-Wan was out of his seat before he consciously made the decision to move. 

“He still needs to go through customs,” Rex said, but he marked his page and put the book back into his bag. 

Obi-Wan had a terrible vision of Anakin being turned away, having forgotten some important bit of paperwork even though the Te Wiatas got everything sorted months ago. 

“He has all his documents,” Rex said. “Ahsoka went over everything with him in detail multiple times.” 

“Yes, of course,” Obi-Wan said. 

“Come on,” Rex said, gathering up their empty cups to throw in the rubbish bin. “We’ll find a place to wait.” 

The arrivals hall was relatively crowded as another flight had come in just before Anakin’s. They found a place off to the side near an older woman who was sedately knitting a scarf and ignoring everything around her. 

Slowly, in ones and twos and then in groups that broke apart only to reform as families were reunited, people came through from customs. Obi-Wan impatiently scanned the crowd. Rex rubbed his thumb soothingly over Obi-Wan’s knuckles, and Obi-Wan took a deep breath and forced himself to stillness. He waited five years; he could suffer through the next half hour. 

And then, just behind a girl dragging luggage that was nearly as big as she was, came Anakin, standing tall over the crowd and searching for him. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, voice cracking. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Anakin!” 

Anakin’s head snapped towards the sound of his name, eyes wide, and later Obi-Wan couldn’t say who had broken into a run, if either of them had, but the result was the same: Anakin’s shoulder blade sharp under his hand, Anakin’s hand fisted in the back of his shirt as they held each other tightly. 

“Holy shit,” Anakin said into his shoulder, “You’re actually here. God, I missed you so much.” 

“I missed you, too,” Obi-Wan said. 

Anakin’s hair was a tangled mess and he smelled of stale, recycled air. He was still tall and thin, although there was a broadness to his shoulders that hadn’t been there five years ago, and in the space that once contained Obi-Wan’s heart was a slow unfurling of warmth that suffused them both. 

Obi-Wan pulled back and brushed Anakin’s hair from his face. “I see you lost the beard.” 

Anakin shrugged. “I figured I was just embarrassing myself trying to compete with yours so I might as well shave it off.” 

“A very sensible decision,” Obi-Wan said and touched gentle knuckles to Anakin’s smooth cheek. 

“God, you’re terrible,” Anakin said. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Obi-Wan said. 

Anakin’s gaze tracked over his shoulder. Obi-Wan reached back and took Rex’s hand. “Anakin, I’d like you to meet Rex. Rex, this is my brother.” 

“Glad you made it, kid,” Rex said, and offered his free hand. 

Anakin glanced between them, grinning slow and wide, as he took Rex’s hand, easy in this as he had always been. 

“It’s really nice to meet you,” Anakin said. “Ahsoka talks about you a lot.” 

Rex’s eyebrows rose. “She’s a compulsive liar.” 

“She said you’d say that.” Anakin’s expression went sly. “And she said something about you being married?” 

“Oh for—we’re not married,” Obi-Wan said, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“He saved my coat,” Rex said, “and I almost convinced him that meant my people considered us married.” 

“Oh my god,” Anakin said, gleeful. “Did he make the aneurysm face? Please tell me he did. I love that face.” 

“I do not have an aneurysm face,” Obi-Wan protested, although why he bothered he didn’t know as neither Anakin or Rex were paying him any attention. 

“I'm pretty sure he blacked out at one point,” Rex said. “He kept repeating ‘I beg your pardon,’ and staring into the distance.” 

“I was not—” he said, only to be brought up short by Anakin’s laughter, bright and joyful, offset by Rex’s own quiet chuckle. Obi-Wan would give anything to keep this. 

“I'm so sad I missed that,” Anakin said, 

“Well, if it helps,” Obi-Wan said, “our actual wedding date isn’t for another six months. You’ll be here for that.” 

Anakin’s grin fell. “Wait, what wedding?” 

“Do you have everything?” Obi-Wan asked. “Wolffe has offered the use of his boat, but he hates to be kept waiting.” 

“Your wedding?” Anakin said, voice pitching upwards. “Are you serious?” 

“We should go before traffic gets too bad. Come along.” 

“This isn’t funny, Obi-Wan. I have no idea what day it is and I haven’t slept in, like, thirty hours. Do not mess with me.” 

“Now what possible reason would I have to do that?” he said, delighted by the outraged noise that earned him, as he led the way to the exit. 

This is what will happen: they will take a taxi to the dock and find Wolffe, who will look Anakin over, and say to Rex, “You sure you want this one as an in-law?” 

They will carry Anakin’s bags up to the flat and show him to his room, and later they will have fresh baked bread still warm from the oven. When Anakin’s yawns grew so wide they cracked his jaw, Obi-Wan will herd him off to bed. They will embrace again, and the sharp cut of joy will leave his tongue clumsy and ill fitting, but Obi-Wan will say, “I am so glad you’re here. You’ve no idea how much I missed you.” 

“You’re stuck with me now,” Anakin will answer, and hold on so tightly Obi-Wan will feel his ribs bow inward from the pressure. 

And that night, when Obi-Wan and Rex lay in their bed, Rex will say, “You okay?” 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan will answer, tucking his face into the curve of Rex’s neck. “I'm okay.” 

But that was later. Now there was Anakin glancing suspiciously between him and Rex. Obi-Wan may not be a Te Wiata, but he could keep his expression mildly polite with the best of them. 

“All right,” Anakin finally said, “ _if_ you’re engaged then where’s the ring?” 

“My family doesn’t do rings,” Rex said. 

“What does _that_ mean?” 

“It means,” Obi-Wan said, “that it’s time we go home.” 

* * *

At the end of winter, Obi-Wan helped Rex build and install a small window box in their kitchen for a herb garden Rex was intent upon growing, frustrated as he was with the local shop’s poor offerings. By the time Anakin joined them, pale green stalks had sprouted and pushed their way up into the light. 

**Author's Note:**

> A couple things:
> 
> The Te Wiatas are New Zealand seals, and at my work is a very confused IT person who keeps wondering why I'm google image searching seals.
> 
> I took some liberty with the academic calendar, particularly the term breaks, which are much shorter than I originally thought.
> 
> I also took a lot of liberty with Waiheke's geography, but hey, it's in service to a good cause, and that cause is dramatic disaster bi Obi-Wan Kenobi jumping off a cliff in a storm.
> 
> Pale green things is in reference to the Mountain Goats song of the same title because I gotta be me.
> 
> And finally I'm on [tumblr](http://dharmaavocado.tumblr.com/) and [pillowfort](http://pillowfort.io/dharmaavocado) if you want to drop by and say hello.


End file.
